Laura's Journal: My Story as Told by Me
by Quill N. Inque
Summary: X23 chronicles her experiences after coming to the Xavier Institute, and she soon finds that no amount of training could have prepared her for the challenges of school, friends, bullies and even BOYS...COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

_"We know what we are, but not what we may be."-Albert Einstein_

Chapter 1: Homecoming

_(A/N: PLEASE read the author's note at the end of this chapter, as it contains important information concerning my updating schedule. _^^)

The Professor told me that I should write down my experiences in this notebook, to "relieve stress" and provide "an outlet for my feelings." Personally, I knew little and cared even less about the all that psychiatric bullshit he kept going on about, but after a moment's thought I concluded that it was in my own best interests not to piss off a telepath as powerful as Cue-ball. So now I'm pushing this pen across the page and getting ink all over my fingers, and let me tell you, I have yet to see how this will help me at all. So far I've written all of this and I don't feel one bit better.

I don't fear Xavier. I fear no one and nothing, because I do not permit myself to do so. The only one who ever came close to scaring me (and I'm writing this down because I'm the only one who will ever see it) is that beer-slugging, foul-mouthed hillbilly who dragged me out of the Canadian wilderness just a few days ago, the man whose genetic material was used to create me as a new and improved version of the ultimate living weapon.

Baldy says that I should call him Father, but I've never had a father, or a mother for that matter, and to be honest, he's such an asshole that he makes me want to slug him just for saying hello. I've never known anyone who can make me lose my temper so easily, and looking back, I have to wonder what the hell I was thinking to come back to the States with him.

I blame that on two things: my curiosity and my stomach. Logan offered me the prospect of three meals a day and a warm bed to sleep in, and after months living in the middle of a cave in the middle of nowhere, that sounds pretty good, let me tell you. I'm _always _hungry during the winter, no matter how much I eat, so I can only conclude that the opportunity of not having to hunt to eat is what drove my decision.

However (and again, I'm only admitting this because no one but I will ever look upon this page), I won't deny that there have been occasions, especially during the winter when I was confined to my makeshift dwelling, where I tended to let my mind wander and daydream of what it would be like to try living like everybody else. To go to school and things like that. To be…"normal."

That word really makes me uneasy. Obviously, I'd been trained not to draw attention in a public setting like a mall or a parking lot, but that was just for the sake of being covert. I have walked among "normal" people on numerous occasions, seeing what I could have had while knowing I would never have it as long as I remained in HYDRA's coils.

You can't even BEGIN to imagine how awful that feeling is, so when Logan tracked me down and offered to take me to the Xavier Institute, my self-doubt as well as my growling belly overrode my better judgment. For the first time since I could remember, some naggling little feeling in the back of my head kept telling me that there was more to life than what I had seen so far.

So I threw caution to the wind, gave my cold, logical HYDRA training a colossal kick in the ass and decided to give this "normal" business a whirl, for the sake of increasing my own standard of living if nothing else.

I do not call my progenitor Father, at least not yet. It makes me feel…uncomfortable, saying that. The word itself feels rusty, unfamiliar, and unused whenever I try to say it, so I've decided, for the sake of simplicity, to call him Logan like all the other X-Men do. Of course, I'm not at all sure if that's his real name. Logan isn't either, because his memory was wiped before Weapon X used him as their guinea pig.

Logan hates that he can't remember, but I consider it a mercy. Unlike him, I can recall each and every one of the tortures I endured as the HYDRA organization tried to scour my humanity away. I could tell you how they used to douse me in gasoline and set me on fire just to see my healing factor work. I can tell you stories of how their scientists took me apart and sewed me back up just to see what made me tick, and I could rattle off an alphabet of more psychological tortures than you could shake a stick at. Logan doesn't have to remember what HE went through, but I wasn't so lucky.

This pen feels awkward as I try to write. Of course, I'd been force-fed such skills via a subliminal education program while HYDRA grew me in a test tube, but until now I've never actually had cause to use it. I think I killed a guy using a pencil once, but I don't know if that counts.

I want to make it clear that _he_ started it, though, so it was his own stupid fault. People like that think that because I'm small and because I'm a girl, they can just push me around like a discarded toy. And I'm dead serious when I say that I had way more than enough of that with HYDRA. I've never let anyone try to intimidate me since then, and those who tried usually didn't live very long.

Logan says that nothing butters his bread more than someone trying to kill him, and though I hate to say it, that's one point he and I can agree upon. In fact, it's the ONLY point we've agreed upon at this point. I share his fiery temper, since I am his clone, so I'd be making an understatement to say that we haven't gotten along very well in the past. Xavier told me that Logan cares, in his own warped way, but from what I've seen his first priority on returning to the Institute was to make sure there was beer in the refrigeration unit.

Frankly, I can't understand how he can drink that swill. Alcohol only dulls the senses, impedes judgment, and makes one more vulnerable than he would be otherwise. You'd think a guy with more enemies than hairs on his body (and Logan has a _lot _of hair) would be a bit more cautious. And in my opinion, the stuff tastes completely gross. I tried some of it a little while ago when Logan had his back turned and nearly spat it out on the kitchen floor.

I guess that at this point in my recordings it would be appropriate to write down my name and other trivial things people put in their journals (the word "diary" seems too childish to me), but until a few hours ago "X23" was the only designation I recognized. I'm not aware of a specific date upon which I reached consciousness in HYDRA's lab, so I guess I don't have a specific birthday, either. Of course, you have to actually be born to have one of those, so even if I knew the exact date of my creation, I'm not sure if I would qualify. At a rough estimate, I would place my age at somewhere between fifteen and sixteen years, but I'm only making this guess based on how I appear physically. I suppose I could be even older, seeing as how my mutant healing factor drastically slows the rate at which my body ages; that's a trait that Logan and I share. The Professor mentioned that my "father" might be over a century old, so with me there may be no way of determining my exact age.

I don't have a lot of hobbies. I guess exercising and training might be classified as hobbies, but I only do those things because being at peak physical performance was a matter of survival for me. From what I've heard, a hobby is something you do simply because you like to do it, so I guess I can't decide if these activities are actually hobbies or requirements.

And yes, as you've probably guessed by now, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing as far as this "normal" stuff is concerned. I feel confused with almost everything that goes on here at the Institute, and it's really starting to piss me off.

Before I get to that, though, I suppose it would be a good idea to go into more detail as to how exactly Logan swindled me into coming here, the bastard. It was only less than a week ago that he managed to hunt me down, but I can't say I was really surprised to see him. If anyone was able to find me when I didn't want to be found, it was Logan.

It was cold that day. Well, to be fair, Canada's almost always cold, but it's even colder in January. The snow was falling so hard and fast outside my cave that you could hardly see your hand in front of your face, and the sad, small little fire that I had huddled around didn't do a lot to make me feel any warmer.

I was freezing my ass off, but at least I ate well that month. I had anticipated that hunting would be poor in the winter months and had acted accordingly; there probably wasn't a deer or rabbit left within one square mile of me. The stalactites and stalagmites that covered the cave's floor and walls were festooned with the frozen corpses from which I drew my meals, and I was in the middle of devouring the thick meat of a fawn's leg when I heard something beneath the shrieking of the blizzard outside.

Like Logan, my senses of smell, sight, and hearing have all been enhanced. It wasn't possible to come near my cave without me knowing; Logan probably could have done it if he wanted to, but I don't think he was trying to sneak up on me at this point. I dropped the bone, now picked almost clean, and wiped the blood around my mouth on my equally filthy and grungy sleeve. I hadn't bathed in weeks, since immersing myself in such weather would have given me a fatal case of hypothermia, and it was a small mercy that my nose didn't pick up my own scent.

Anyway, I slowly shifted my position to redistribute my weight. Though it looked like mere fidgeting, I was actually preparing to strike like a coiled spring if the need arose. I may have appeared completely relaxed, but every muscle in my body was poised to attack at a second's notice. All it would take was a small flick of my wrists to unsheathe the sharp adamantium claws that lay buried behind my knuckles. Those claws, I admit, have come in handy from time to time, and the fact that my skeleton became unbreakable when HYDRA grafted the substance to it has saved my life on many occasions. I always find the irony of _that _far too good to resist, but this thought was forgotten as I readied myself to meet whatever threat or potential meal that had turned up on my doorstep.

I could just barely make out the silhouette of whoever had found me, and with it came a pungent, unpleasant odor that reminded me of stale sweat and flat beer. I have learned from experience each person has a distinctive scent, almost like a human fingerprint. Each one is unique in its own way, and I seldom forget the smell of anyone that I had reason to remember.

I recognized this person's rank odor almost as soon as it hit my nostrils. I certainly wouldn't forget the person it belonged to anytime soon, that's for sure.

I tried to hide my astonishment as I fought to find my tongue. "Logan?" I asked warily, almost unwilling to believe it. _What is he doing here?_

Any doubts I may have had promptly disappeared when Logan's brutish, stubble-covered face loomed out of the snowstorm. The flakes of ice and snow gathered in piles on top of his hair, and the sight would have been amusing if laughter came more easily to me. Unfortunately, however, years of physical and emotional abuse tend to whittle away one's sense of humor after a while.

"Hullo, squirt," Logan grunted back, brushing ice from his shoulders as he sauntered closer to me. Logan's short as adult males go, so he didn't have to duck as he let himself in. The reek of beer and body odor was strong as he plopped himself down by the fire, and he ripped his thick gloves off before holding his palms out toward the flames.

"How…How did you find me?" I demanded, trying and failing to hide just how surprised I was to see him. I also noted, briefly, that unlike the last time we had met, the prospect of his company didn't seem entirely unappealing to me anymore.

"I've had years of practice," he replied, tearing a leg off the deer carcass and sinking his teeth into it. I almost jumped him then and there, seeing as how it was _my _food he was helping himself to. "And I thought you could use a change o' scenery right about now."

Logan nodded over his shoulder at the howling blizzard to make his point.

"It's not as if I can just walk away, idiot," I muttered back. "I'd freeze to death before I got half a mile behind me, and in any case, I like being by myself."

"Liar."

"Am not," I shot back stubbornly.

"The hell you're not. I kin hear yer heartbeat speedin' up just now." Logan smirked, and for the second time I squashed the urge to lunge at his throat and wipe that grin off of his face. "If you were tellin' the truth, it woulda stayed steady, see? Besides, yer a teenager, an' in my experience teenagers are awful fibbers. Lyin's a skill that takes years to practice."

I growled wordlessly. I _hate _it when he's right, but that doesn't mean I'd give him the satisfaction of admitting it aloud. "I'm not like your other students," I said finally, through clenched teeth. "Don't delude yourself into thinking you know everything about me."

"I may not know everythin', but I _do_ know you better than anyone else kin hope to," Logan snorted, and I bristled because I knew he had a point. "Which is why I'm surprised you didn't attack me from force o' habit just now. Normally I'd have to punt ya 'round a bit before ya let me talk at all."

"So why go to all the trouble of finding me?" I inquired, turning the conversation back to Logan's arrival. I was _not _at ease with the insinuation that I had missed Logan even a little bit, and I fought to keep my face straight as I took a second to reassure myself that I _hadn't_ wondered where he was or what he might be doing.

Logan looked me straight in the eye, which was something he'd never really done before. His eyes seemed old, almost ancient, and I could tell that they'd seen horrors the likes of which most people could only imagine. I guess he wanted me to see that he meant what he said next.

"I want to help you, kid."

I laughed, but it was hollow and mirthless. "I told you before, Logan. You can't help me. No one can."

"The only reason no one kin help ya is cuz ya never let anyone try in the first place!" Logan snarled, and I flinched at the sudden ferocity in his voice. "I didn't have the opportunity t'try an' live a normal life after Weapon X for more decades than I care t'remember, an' now, when that same chance falls right into yer lap, ya have the sheer brass-headed stupidity t'turn it down? I knew ya were stubborn, small fry, but I never pegged ya for a fool till now!"

"You think I can 'live a normal life'?" I asked, snorting with derision. "And you'd have a way of doing that, huh?"

Logan's voice dropped to a hushed level that was kind of uncharacteristic of him, and, looking back on it now, I'd swear he actually felt somewhat awkward when he opened his mouth again. "Actually, I do. I want ya t'come back with me to the Xavier Institute. I…"

This was followed by another long and uncomfortable pause.

"I wanna try t'HELP you," Logan finished, and for the first time since meeting him, there was no trace of his crusty personality or cantankerous nature in his words. On anyone else, it would have seemed sweet, but with Logan it just felt kind of unnatural.

The old grouch actually seemed sincere, and THAT, more than anything else, took me entirely off-guard.

I felt rooted to the log I was sitting on. Logan tracked me all the way up here…just to say that he was worried about me? That he cared about me? Jeez, I could hardly believe that he was even coming out and admitting it. Logan was just about the most UN-touchy-feely guy on the face of the planet; try to hug him and he'll tear into you like a rabid badger with a testosterone problem. He was just about as cuddly as a cactus and just as prickly, and yet he had just told me, to my face, that he honestly cared about my well-being.

That was more than I could say for anyone else I'd ever met in my life so far. HYDRA certainly hadn't cared if I lived or died; I was merely a tool to them. And the guys at SHIELD looked at me as if I were a dangerous fugitive, so they didn't give a damn about me either.

But apparently Logan did.

And the thing is…for once, I actually found myself BELIEVING him. I hadn't really trusted him the first time we met, or the second time, for that matter, and I'd regarded him with extreme caution even on the best of days. That was partly due to the trauma I'd experienced with HYDRA, and since then I'd never permitted myself to lower my guard around anyone, including Logan and the rest of the X-men. I usually make a habit of regarding everyone and everything with a healthy amount of suspicion and skepticism, so it takes a lot to convince me of anything.

But despite that, some part of me WANTED to trust what he was saying, and despite all the alarm bells going off in my head, I found myself suddenly imagining what life at the Insitute might be like. I wouldn't have to hunt for my own food, that's for sure, and since my foodstock would eventually run out, I knew I'd have to go out into the snow to hunt eventually if I stayed here much longer. It'd be much simpler, a little, rebellious voice whispered, to simply go into the kitchen and retrieve a snack from the refrigerator. It was certainly easier than having to run down your food before you can eat it.

And then there was the prospect of school. If I went with Logan, perhaps I could go to school. I'd observed some schools in a small town a few miles away on the rare occasions that I ventured out of the woods, and it didn't seem like an entirely bad experience. I had no idea why the students I spied upon complained so constantly; when the weather trapped me indoors like it did now, there were times when I would have gladly traded all my food for a diversion from my boredom. A book would certainly have done wonders to ease the hours of tediousness, I admitted, and the bald-headed guy that Wolverine called "the Professor" would certainly have lots of books and maybe even an entire library at his disposal.

And a bed, the nagging little voice went on. Xavier would have a real bed with real sheets and real pillows. No more sleeping on rocks or snow or twigs in below-zero temperatures. There'd be air conditioning for the summer and a heating system to keep me warm in the winter. And that's not counting the benefits of running water and a working toilet.

And don't even get me started on the hot baths. After so many months of bathing in freezing water that made my toes turn numb, a soak in steaming hot liquid looked enormously appealing.

All things considered, life at the Institute certainly couldn't be any worse than it was out here. And Xavier was sure to have an extremely advanced security system to keep unwanted intruders out. This, along with t the combined forces of his students (which were considerable) would serve to severely impede any interlopers that might come looking for me.

Finally, I reasoned that if the risk wasn't worth it, I could simply run away again. It's not like the Professor's so-called X-Men could stop me, no matter how formidable they might be to anyone else. After all, I'd taken them all down with ease when I'd broken into the mansion some time ago, save for Logan, and I could probably outrun him if it came to that.

My inbred, coldly logical HYDRA training swiftly decided that the benefits of life at the Institute far outweighed the risks that it might have presented.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, and slowly met Logan's gaze. I didn't say as much, but I made it clear that I was giving this one chance only, ONE, and if Logan blew it I'd be gone before he knew what had happened.

"So, are we walking all the way back, or did you bring along one of those fancy jets that Cue-ball seems to have lying around everywhere?"

Logan grinned snarkily back at me. "Hope ya don't get airsick, half-pint…"

A/N: Well, after a thoroughly enjoyable and restful vacation, I am pleased to say that I have returned to take up my quill and begin writing once more. For those of you who have been to my profile, you may have guessed (correctly) that this story is a totally revamped and revised version of one of my very first stories. Unlike its predecessor, however, this version will be longer and much more detailed, and I even have plans to include an OC who will play an important role in later chapters. I am also writing this because X23 was my favorite character on the show and, let's be honest, this site needs to see MORE of her. XD So I present this first chapter with pride, and I hope you enjoyed it!

On a more personal note, please keep in mind that classes will resume for me on August 24th. I will have to return to school a week prior to this, and since it will take time for me to get fully settled I may not be able to update this story quite as rapidly as I would like. Please give me your patience and understanding in this, and I promise you it will NOT go unrewarded.

But thankfully that's over a week from now, so I've still got some time to get a few more chapters up! Don't go anywhere, because I'll be back with chapter two very, very soon! ^^ And, as always, PLEASE REVIEW! If YOU have any ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW!

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque

P.S. To all the readers of my Historical KURTTY series (special shout-out to Indigo-Night-Wisp, AmuletSpade, Caprichoso, Anahbell and Gabry): Don't be too disappointed. Even as I write this, I am already drawing up plans for the sixth and final volume. ^^


	2. Chapter 2

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 2: Homecoming, Part Two

I hate flying.

First off, the supersonic fighter jet that Logan had brought along with him was apparently built for speed and combat capability, not for comfort. There was barely enough room in the pilot's cockpit for both me and my so-called "father," and the fact that Logan was a stranger to personal hygiene didn't do wonders to improve my mood.

The seat-belt _clicked_ as I drew it over my chest and locked it into place, and Logan shot me a sideways glance as his fingers danced over the control panel. The entire console was lit up with buttons like a Christmas tree, and over the growing whine of the engines Logan had to strain to make himself heard.

"Do me and a favor and don't touch anything," he warned me, gesturing toward the array of switches and levers.

I scowled back but said nothing. I probably could have flown the stupid plane if I wanted to, but I figured it was better to let Logan feel that he could do something I couldn't. Of course, that was utter bullshit; since I am his clone, I could do anything he could and probably do it better, but I didn't say that aloud because having to spend four hours in a cockpit with an angry Logan did _not _seem like a pleasant experience.

I clutched the arm of my seat as the plane lifted off the ground, and as we grew airborne Logan shot a glance my way.

"Need something to eat?" he asked, nodding at my belly as my gut began growling.

I tried to hide the fact that the sudden gurgling had embarrassed me, but there was no benefit in denying that I was on the verge of resorting to cannibalism.

He handed me a piece of beef jerky, which I immediately began to gnaw upon. "So how long will it take to get there?" I asked, through a mouthful of meat.

"You kids," Logan snorted. "Always in a hurry, aren't ya? We'll git there when we git there, squirt, an' not before."

"Oh, yeah, you're a real philosopher," I rolled my eyes.

Logan shot a glare at me. "Yer sittin' in an ejector seat, didja know that?"

"You're not gonna use it," I retorted. "I estimate our current elevation since takeoff to be at least four thousand feet, and a fall from this height, while not lethal, would still hurt like hell. You wouldn't do that to me."

Logan's finger hovered over a button that may or may not have been the trigger for the ejector he'd talked about. "Don't tempt me, kid."

"_Stop calling me that!"_ I yelled, banging my fist on the console. _"I am not a kid!"_

"Sure yer not," Logan grinned back.

I bit back the urge to hurl him clear through the windshield, and I knew I'd be having that temptation for a long time to come.

After all, with only Logan for company, it was going to be a _long_ flight back to the Institute, no matter how fast the plane was actually going.

_Hours later…._

My low estimation of my progenitor's quality as a traveling companion turned out to be absolutely correct. By the time the X-Jet touched down on the lawn in front of the opulent mansion that served as the Xavier Institute, my temper had grown so frayed that the urge to eviscerate something to relieve stress was overwhelming. Logan had hardly spoken a word during the entire journey, and when he _had_ talked to me it was usually to tell me to shut up or sit still or something like that.

Perfect "father" material, isn't he? Geez, the guy's like a Social Service worker's waking nightmare, and he has the _balls_ to think he can take care of me? I'd met praying mantises that were better "parents" than Logan, and besides, I can take care of myself without _his _version of care.

The grass was green and soft underfoot as the canopy glass slid backward with a pneumatic hiss, and I disdained the small metal ramp that extended from the floor in favor of simply leaping into the air. I sailed end over end with ease, and I landed cat-like on all fours before standing up again.

"Nice entrance," Logan grunted, passing by me without so much as a glance. "Now c'mon. There are a few folks who'd like to speak with ya."

"I'm not good at talking," I replied.

"Then ya'd better learn fast," he smirked. "Ya can't solve all of yer problems by punchin' or kickin' 'em, kid."

"It's worked for me so far," I muttered under my breath as he led me inside.

The Institute was even more massive within than it appeared outside. You could probably fit an entire apartment complex into the first part of the structure, and I had to wonder just how deep Cue-ball's pockets were to pay the electric bill for something like this. The entire place was so massive that it made me feel tiny.

It certainly wasn't a _bad_ place to live, all things considered, and I grudgingly gave Xavier credit for style and taste. The floor underneath my feet was carved from tiles of white marble that made my footsteps echo, as though I were in a cave, and the stairs and banisters were carved from rich, heavy, dark wood that shone with layers of varnish. The air smelled faintly of lemon-scented cleaner and packed humanity, and the hallways and rooms were furnished not only with antique furniture that cost more than most people made in a year, but also with many other things whose purpose and function I had cause to question. More than one bust of stone or plaster rested on wooden pedestals alongside tapestries depicting scenes from Shakespeare and other well-known literary works. It seemed more like a castle than anything else, but I knew a plain old castle wasn't _nearly_ as heavily defended as the Xavier Institute.

I rounded the corner with Logan alongside me, and I only narrowly avoided bumping head-first into a boy about my age, who seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere _fast._

I sidestepped him as his eyes widened upon seeing me, and my claws slid out with an ominous _shink_ as I instinctively dropped into a fighting crouch. My eyes glittered dangerously, but I soon determined that he had no intention of fighting; if anything, the sour stench of fear began pouring off of him in waves, and his mouth opened and shut wordlessly for a few moments as I waited for him to move.

"You!" he said finally. "I remember you!"

From his tone, that wasn't a particularly good thing, and I really couldn't blame him for that. My first visit to the Institute hadn't been as peaceful as this one. That time, I had gone after Logan because I blamed him for who and what I was, and I had very nearly come close to wiping the X-Men, including Xavier, in the process. Logan and I had fought to a draw before SHIELD had showed up, and even after I had tried to kill him, my "father" had distracted Nick Fury's goons long enough to give me time to get away.

Okay, fine, I'll give Logan some credit, that _was_ pretty nice of him.

Anyway, I had gone on the run again after all of that, and needless to say the rest of the X-Men and I didn't exactly part on the best of terms. I vaguely recalled the boy in front of me from that night, but I couldn't place a name with the face that now studied me.

"Easy, Ice Cube, she's with me," Logan said, looming over his shoulder like a tower of menace.

"That doesn't make me feel a whole lot better," the kid replied, glancing my way again as another wave of fear-stink rolled off his body. "She, uh, tried to kill me the last time I saw her, in case you forgot, Logan."

My glare softened for a moment. I hadn't expected a particularly warm welcome from some of the X-Men's younger members, but this boy's words made me feel…weird. Like, _bad_ weird.

It took me a moment to identify this unusual feeling as something akin to guilt.

"I, uh…"I struggled to find my tongue; this was _not _a situation I was familiar with. "I'm sorry," I said finally, remembering at last the proper phrase to use in conversations such as this.

He stared at me a bit longer, apparently astounded that I had just uttered those words, and let me tell you, that made me feel even _more_ uncomfortable. I was starting to feel like a zoo exhibit when his neutral expression suddenly split into this idiotic grin, as if it had all been a misunderstanding. I immediately concluded that this guy wasn't the brains of the operation; in fact, if anything, he seemed to be there for comic relief more than anything else.

"Don't worry, it's cool," he said, and I was taken aback by how suddenly his mood lightened. "I'm Bobby, by the way. Bobby Drake, or Iceman, whichever you prefer. What's your name?"

"I don't have one," I replied matter-of-factly, gripping his wrist tightly and shaking it vigorously as social norms required.

Bobby's face turned white, and I realized that perhaps I was grabbing him too hard. I let him go at once, feeling like an idiot for not noticing his discomfort sooner, and he rubbed the rapidly reddening skin with vigor as Logan steered me down the hall. The only reason I let him touch me was because I didn't completely remember how to find my way around in this enormous place.

"Thought ya were goin' t'carve 'im up fer a minute there," Logan said. "Ya don' need t'be so jumpy 'round here, kid. No one's gonna try t'hurt ya, least no one who wants to live t'see their next birthday."

"That boy is simultaneously a fool and a walking disaster," I noted, ignoring him even though some part of me was pleased to hear that Logan was taking this whole thing seriously.

Of course, I didn't have to let _him _know that.

"The Popsicle means well, but he needs a kick in the ass from time t'time in order t'keep him focused," Logan agreed. "That's where _I _come in."

"You're one of the instructors?" I gaped. The thought was so absurd that it bordered on the imbecilic! It was like having Hannibal Lecter teach a cooking class, for crying out loud! In fact, now that I thought about it, it was a wonder that any of the students hadn't _died_ under Logan's tutelage!

Logan grinned a wolf's smile. "You seem surprised."

"I hope they've bought life insurance," I retorted.

"Save that hostility for later," Logan's grin faded and his tone became curt as he opened the door to an especially large and extensive office. "Chuck wants to speak to the both of us before we get ya settled in, and if'n ya don't watch yer tongue in there I'll take ya on my knee and paddle your backside."

"I'd like to see you try it," I snarled back.

"Do you need a moment?"

A third voice, quiet and cultured with a faint British accent, interrupted the growing argument and drew my attention to the unassuming bald guy sitting near the large bay window. He was clad in a suit that looked as though it had been tailor-made to fit, and his fingers were steepled over his lap as his elbows rested on the arms of his wheelchair.

I knew without a doubt that this was Charles Xavier. I may not have remembered the entire roster of the X-Men from the last time I was here, but Xavier was someone worth remembering. His telepathic abilities were so strong that he was thought to be one of the most powerful mutants on the face of the planet, co-equal with even the infamous Magneto, and as his intense eyes studied me I made an effort to seal my mind against any invasive probing that might ensue.

Xavier smiled reassuringly. "There's no need for that," he said. "I have never and _will _never invade the sanctity of another's mind without that person's permission to do so." He gestured toward one of the expensive wooden chairs that lay on the other side of his desk. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."

It was best, I concluded, to follow Xavier's directions, so after I determined that I was not under a mental attack, I slowly sank into the seat he'd offered me.

"I'm glad you're here," the Professor continued, and if I didn't know better I'd swear that there was genuine sympathy in those words. "Logan has been quite concerned about you for some time now."

"I don't need his concern." Even as that sentence left my mouth, I knew I wasn't convincing anyone, including myself.

"I am sure I speak for everyone here at the Institute when I tell you that we are all very grateful that you have come," Xavier told me. "We will try to help you adjust in any way we can. If there is anything you need, you have only to ask."

He slid a piece of paper across to Logan. "In legal terms, I am afraid you do not exist," the Professor shrugged. "However, our friends at SHIELD have been kind enough to provide you with a cover identity and false documentation that should stand up to even the strongest scrutiny. I had all of this prepared as soon as I heard you were coming, and all that remains now is for Logan to consent to be recognized as your legal guardian."

"WHAT?" I shot up from my chair. "You can't be serious!"

"I am deadly serious," The Professor told me, without any rebuke in his tone. "You must understand that you and he have more in common than you do with anyone else. Logan has suffered all that you suffered, and he is the closest thing you have to a relative. I can think of no one more suited to be entrusted with your welfare until you come of age."

"Chuck, I dunno…" Logan began, but Xavier cut him off.

"It will be good for the both of you. Our guest needs a guardian, and to be honest, you could do with improving the level on which you relate to the younger generation."

"I don't need him!" I growled.

Xavier turned my way, and his eyes seemed to stare straight through me. "Yes, you do," he said quietly. "You need each other more than you know."

I deflated as I realized that Baldy wasn't gonna be budging on this one. "What about school?" I asked, desperate to change the subject.

"I have already made the necessary arrangements," Xavier smiled. "You start tomorrow."

_Good, at least there's something to look forward to,_ I thought. "What about training? Don't you guys…go on missions and things like that?"

"Let _me _worry about that stuff," Logan replied.

"Well, if you have no more questions, I'm sure Jean will be glad to show you where you'll be staying," Xavier finished, and as if on cue, a woman who looked to be only a few years older than me entered the office. The first thing I noticed about her was how red her hair was.

Then a flash of memory put a name with her face. The girl was Jean Grey, a telepath like Xavier who had been made his protégé. If I was correct, she had been one of the very first members of the X-Men back when the Institute had first opened its doors.

"What do you need, Professor?" Jean asked, smiling warmly at me as if she couldn't remember that I had nearly killed her the last time we'd met.

"Please show Miss…erm…"

Xavier glanced at me. "You need a name, my dear," he murmured. "We certainly can't go on calling you 'X23' all the time."

I faltered. I had never had need of a real name before, and even as I tried to make a list of possible candidates I found my archive of human monikers to be depressingly short.

"Um…" I bit my lip, suddenly unsure.

"Laura."

All eyes turned to Logan. "You can be 'Laura,'" he said, nodding at me. "Dunno where the name comes from, but somehow I think it was important to me…once."

"Laura," I murmured, feeling the word rolling off my tongue. "But don't people have a last name?"

"Howlett," Logan said instantly. "I came across that one when I tried to regain my memory a few years back. Dunno if it's actually mine, but yer welcome to use it."

"I…I like it," I said finally, feeling another peculiar sensation rising in my chest. "It's…nice."

Logan had given me a real name, that annoying voice in the back of my mind whispered. And that was more than anyone else had ever done for me in my life. A wave of…_something _washed over me, and while I didn't know exactly what it was, I realized that it was definitely directed at Logan.

"Why don't you help Laura find her room?" the Professor suggested, looking at Jean. "I'm sure she'd like some time to get acquainted with her new surroundings."

"Of course," Jean nodded, before turning to me. "This way, please."

I followed her reluctantly into the hall and up one of the tall, winding flights of stairs, and once again the Institute seemed so labyrinthine that the only way to find my way around was by smell. Jean talked the entire time about the Institute and what it represented and crap, but I was barely listening; my mind was already on the edge of shutting down from everything the Professor and Logan had told me.

She finally stopped in front of a door that looked exactly like all the others which lined either side of the corridor, and she swung it wide open and beckoned me inside.

"This is where you'll be staying," Jean told me in that same, warm voice. If she was trying to set me at ease by talking like that, it wasn't working. I hadn't relaxed in so long that I was halfway convinced I'd forgotten how to do it.

"Thanks," I grunted, giving the small dorm a quick once-over. It was a simple enough affair, about eight feet by ten feet in length and width, and it contained a small twin bed that looked as if it had never even been used. A lamp rested on a small table nearby, and the far wall was taken up by a bookshelf lined with novels like _Moby Dick_ and _The Odyssey._ There was another door that led to a small bathroom, and the carpet was soft and seemed to have been vacuumed recently. Apparently Xavier put high priority on housekeeping, though how he kept a house this big so clean was a mystery to me.

I found myself lost for words for the second time in as many minutes. I'd known that Xavier would have provided suitable accommodations when I arrived, but now, having actually seen it…

All of this was suddenly _mine._ Hell, I'd never even _owned _this much stuff before.

"Are you all right?" Jean asked me.

"I'm fine," I replied automatically. "Just…thinking, that's all. When do I get to eat?"

"We're having a barbecue outside in an hour or so," Jean grinned. "Beast is cooking burgers, so you won't want to miss it."

I had a mental flashback of the large, blue-furred, ape-like mutant I had come across when I had attacked the mansion. "May I ask you something?" I said suddenly.

Jean stopped on her way out. "What is it, Laura?"

I felt a curious thrill at hearing my name being used, but I ignored it. "You remember, don't you? The last time I was here? Everyone else does, don't they?"

A shadow passed over Jean's face. "Yes," she said quietly. "I remember. And I won't lie to you; there probably _will_ be some uneasiness among the other students at first."

"I thought so," I muttered bitterly.

"You just need to show them that you're serious about all this," Jean advised me, gripping the doorknob. "Just try to be friendly, and they'll forget all about it."

_I wish I could be so naïve, _I thought as the door shut behind Jean's exiting back.

Obviously, I didn't have any suitcases or anything, and despite all the books that seemed to lie waiting for me to pick them up, I decided to forgo leisure reading in favor of filling my stomach.

Dinner may have been in an hour, but no way in Hell was I gonna wait that long.

I glanced down both ends of the hallway to make sure no one was coming before easing the door closed. I could still hear Jean's footsteps on the wooden staircase as she returned to whatever it was she'd been doing, and I made a mental note to consider the effect such noise would have on any escape plan I might have to come up with. I slid noiselessly down the corridor, and as my hand gripped the stair-rail my nose picked up the scent of food.

My stomach rumbled. My healing factor requires me to take in sustenance at an accelerated rate, so I need to eat more often than most people. I fought to control the urge to launch myself down the staircase and pounce on whatever it whose scent I had picked up.

_You're not in the forest anymore, dolt, _I scolded myself, and I could hear my heart speeding up as the smell began to grow stronger. There were noises coming from that direction that I could now hear as well; a series of electronic _beeps, pings _and _dings_ that seemed to repeat themselves without any apparent pattern.

I hesitated. Was the food guarded by a security system? That didn't really seem like something Xavier would do.

I shook my head. _You're just being paranoid. Logan said no one would try to hurt me._

_You don't know that,_ a nasty little part of me replied. _Would you really believe his promises?_

I faltered. _He…he came and got me, didn't he? He said he was worried._

_You can't be sure of that. You saw how the boy Bobby looked at you. No one here likes you, and no one trusts you. _

I shook my head, trying to banish my doubt as the sounds and smells grew clearer. I could clearly make out the blended drone of conversation without the aid of my enhanced hearing as I turned the corner.

I almost had a heart attack as I realized where my nose had led me. The large living room I had just entered seemed to have been tailor-made to fit the requirements of the X-Men's junior members. A large plasma-screen TV dominated the far wall, and different cords of all colors snaked out across the floor to connect it to various gaming and entertainment consoles. The shelves, tables and cushy easy chairs were piled high with chips and other snacks that had no nutritional value whatsoever, and the bowls and platters intermingled with bottles of dark, foamy, sudsy liquid that everyone there took turns consuming. Laughter and good-natured jesting made my ears hurt as the room's occupants tried to outdo each other in volume, and on the TV screen two young boys battled each other in some kind of racing simulation for the entertainment of their peers.

I felt my heart clench with another feeling that I'd never experienced until now. It was obvious that all the students here related very well to each other; each boy and girl knew all the others by name and addressed them with familiarity. I found myself growing envious of how easily they got along, and like an idiot I let my feelings get the best of me instead of making a discreet exit.

It was a mistake I would come to bitterly regret in a couple of seconds.

One of the boys who sat on the arm of the large couch happened to glance over his shoulder, and I instinctively flinched as his eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

"Look!" he cried, punching another one of his friends in the arm to gain his attention. The other mutant, a bizarre-looking guy with blue fur, warped hands and elongated teeth, turned as well, and his expression mirrored that of the first guy as he raised his voice in order to be heard.

"Guys!" he said, his voice laden with a curious German accent. "Check it out! She's here!"

All activity in the room ground to a halt as suddenly as if some asshole had flipped a switch, and I briefly wished for some merciful person to shoot me as I found myself to be under the scrutiny of everyone in the entire room. Their expressions ranged from terrified awe to just plain terrified, and I involuntarily stepped backward as an uneasy feeling came over me.

One girl, apparently sensing my desire to flee the scene of my humiliation, jumped up from her seat and walked over to me. "Wait! Where are you going?"

"Somewhere else," I muttered.

"Why would you want to do that? You're welcome to come hang with us."

I had no idea what 'hanging' entailed, other than that it was an outdated form of execution, and I struggled to speak as my brain began to go offline with humiliation. The girl's friendliness, too, had taken me completely by surprise. If anything, I had expected to be treated with a mixture of fear and outright contempt by those I had attacked the previous year.

"Why would you want me to do that?" I asked, both confused and _angry _about it.

"'Cuz you're, like, a student here now," the girl replied, as though it were obvious, before a look of revelation passed over her face. "Are you still beating yourself up over what happened last year? That's, like, ancient history as far as I'm concerned."

The blue, furry guy nodded in agreement. "Vy vorry about somezing zat 'as already 'appened? You can't change it, but you _can_ try to do better, _ja_?"

"Have a soda," the girl shoved a plastic cup into my hand. "I'm Kitty. Kitty Pryde. That's Kurt Wagner," she motioned toward the blue Muppet on the couch before pointing to the others in turn, "and this is Rogue, Spyke, Amara, Sunspot, and Cannonball."

"Uh…I'm Laura," I said, mentally kicking myself for an idiot because I sounded so unsure.

"Want something to eat?" Kitty added, nodding at the food as I remembered why I came down here in the first place. "We've got, like, way more than enough to go around."

I needed no second bidding, and Kurt gaped as I began demolishing an entire bowl of something called Doritos. "Look at her go! She could even outdo Beast or Logan!"

"Stop staring," Amara scolded him. "You'd be hungry too if you were her."

I wiped a peculiar orange dust off my fingertips and swallowed as I handed the now-empty bowl back to Kitty. "Thanks," I told her, trying to remember the proper expression.

"No prob," Kitty grinned at me. I didn't smile back, because that kind of thing doesn't come very easily to me. "So did everything go okay with the Prof? I heard he had a talk with you when you first got here."

I was silent for a moment. _Honestly, the Professor is kind of intimidating, even if he doesn't mean to be._ Aloud I grunted, "It was fine."

"Looking forward to school?" Sunspot asked. "I know I'm not!"

This was apparently meant to be funny, as everyone around him started laughing, but I failed to see the humor in his observation of his distaste. "Is it that bad?" I asked, suddenly unsure. Fear rocketed down my spine as I realized I had no idea exactly what "school" _did_ entail, but Kitty, to her credit, did her best to reassure me.

"It's not that bad," she said hastily. "Don't stress over it."

_Too late,_ I thought grimly as a sensation akin to nausea made me feel somewhat dizzy. I think Logan would call it "anxiety," and I immediately found that I didn't like it at all.

"Wanna have a go?" Amara picked up a simulation controller and held it out to me.

I hesitated. "The car simulation is designed to test reaction time and reflexes, right?"

"It's not a test," Sunspot's tone took on a patronizing edge that made me want to slug him. "It's just a game, that's all."

"Fine," I growled, put off by the way he'd addressed me and overcome with a sudden and overwhelming urge to viciously beat him at whatever the hell this was.

I sat down on the carpet, and I gripped the controller awkwardly as I flicked my eyes in his direction. "What?" I asked irritably.

Sunspot looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You're staring at me," I told him matter-of-factly. "And the whole time you've been doing it, I can hear your heartbeat speeding up. Your pupils have begun to dilate and your gaze continually lingers on my lower calves."

Kitty rolled her eyes as everyone seemed to laugh at some unseen joke, and he turned crimson as she snatched the controller away from him. "God, Sunspot, you are _such _a pig," she told him disgustedly, taking his seat and shoving him out of the way. "Here, Laura. _I'll _play with you instead."

"I find that to be more appealing," I nodded. "From what I have observed, Sunspot would not have been able to maintain his focus and consequently I could have beaten him easily."

This caused hilarity among the other students, but again, I had no idea what was so funny. Sunspot reddened with embarrassment, but I had yet to see what he was embarrassed about.

"Ready to eat my exhaust?" Kitty grinned.

I didn't know if such a thing was possible, but I played along and pretended I had some idea of what Kitty was talking about.

"Go ahead and try."

A/N: Okay, in case any of you were wondering, I would like to say that NO, Laura is NOT going to end up with Sunspot. I have another plan in mind for _that._ *wink* Trust me, in the next chapter, things are really gonna get interesting when Laura attends her first day of class! And PLEASE REVIEW! Seriously, I only got three reviews for my first chapter, and I want to hear what YOU have to say! If you have any ideas or suggestions, don't be shy! LET ME KNOW! ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	3. Chapter 3

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 3: High School

My stint in "video gaming" didn't last very long. I beat Kitty about three times in a row before she conceded the game to me, but what is interesting is that midway through it I found that the experience wasn't bad at all. Each button on the controller, I discovered, triggered a different mechanism that you could use to cross the finish line first. I found that you could use an oil slick and even a smoke bomb to take the lead, but by far my favorite method to win was the heat-seeking missile launcher that every vehicle in the game seemed to have stored in its trunk. Aiming it was tricky, but as soon as I figured the whole thing out I discovered that the concept of "video games" was rather enjoyable.

It was wise for Kitty to give up when she did. I'd still had three shots left.

I didn't join the other X-Men for dinner, though. I'd already had more than enough interaction with people for one day, and in any case there were all those books that were still in my room upstairs. I had been looking forward to perusing through them, so I had stolen into the kitchen when the one called "Beast" had had his back turned and grabbed a plate of raw burger before it could be cooked.

I didn't bother with anything else. I've been eating red meat for so long now that I'm not even sure I can _digest _it cooked anymore. And don't even get me started on vegetables, either.

I carried the plate of uncooked burger up the stairs and barricaded myself in my room-

-You know, I kinda like saying that. _My _room. _My _books. _My _bed.

I'd never had that much to call mine before, so I guess I was kinda milking it for a while.

Anyway, I shut and locked the door behind me, and I felt my fingertip brush against the spines of the novels that called my name, both hardcover and paperback. I finally selected one called, "Lord of the Rings," flipped it open, and sank onto the bed-

-My eyes widened at the softness of the sheets and comforter. _Ooooh, that feels nice,_ I thought, closing my eyes for a moment just to enjoy the sensation. I gave the mattress an experimental bounce before curling up with my head against the pillow, and I felt the entire thing shift slightly as I lay on my back.

I felt my eyes droop as I scanned the first page, and I felt a curious exhaustion overcome me as I stuffed a fistful of bloody meat into my mouth. I put the book down on my stomach and stretched out, yawning cavernously.

_I think I'll just lie here for a minute…_

I must have fallen asleep shortly thereafter, because the next thing I knew, Logan was barging into my room-_my _room, I just _love_ saying that-and shook me like a rag doll to wake me up. My eyes snapped open and I was instantly alert, but then, driven by instinct, I unsheathed my claws and lunged straight at Logan's heart.

He swiftly caught me by the wrist and stopped me just as the adamantium began to tickle the fabric of his T-Shirt. "Good morning t'you too," he grunted.

I glanced at the clock. "Go away," I told him curtly.

"Can't," Logan replied. "Time t'get up, squirt."

"Go to Hell," I retorted sleepily, climbing back onto the mattress.

Logan caught the collar of my leather uniform, which, I realized, I was still wearing. "You ain't got time to sleep in," he said, looking me in the eye with a glare that warned me not to argue. "School starts in an hour."

I bit my lip, remembering my conversation with Kitty. "But…"

"Not buts, kid. Yer gonna go t'school an' yer gonna like it. That's somethin' _I _never had a chance t'do, by the way, so be grateful for it. Now git yerself into th'shower, cuz I won't have goin' when ya smell like _that._"

"Asshole," I grumbled, rising from the sheets reluctantly and heading toward the bathroom next door.

Logan shrugged. "I bin called worse, kid."

"I was not insulting you. I was stating a fact."

"Sure ya were. See ya at breakfast."

Logan slammed the door in his wake, and I took a moment to wonder how someone like _him_ could try to take care of me without having Social Services at his door within five minutes. I undressed swiftly and switched the water on, but I pulled my wrist back with a hiss of pain as I realized, belatedly, that the water was heated.

I surmised that the other switch controlled the cold water, and I gave that one a turn as well and waited for the temperature to became more suitable. The change was instantaneous, and as I stepped into the tub I took a moment to glance at myself in the mirror above the sink.

I seemed to be more…curvy than I remembered, but lean and fit as well. My hair was now shoulder-length, dark brown in color, and I had also grown in…_other_ areas as well.

By the standards I had observed around me, I concluded that I was reasonably attractive before I found myself wondering why in the world I even _cared_ about that kind of thing. I had never had any need to alter my appearance or make myself look "pretty," but now, since coming Xavier's I now had more spare time than I knew what to do with. Was this something Kitty or Amara worried about as well?

I shook my head. It was ridiculous to worry about this stuff. I had no need for beautification before and I certainly didn't need it now. Who would even notice if I tried? Who would even _care?_

I sighed with something nearing contentment as I stepped into the water, and I felt the layers of dirt and grime I'd accumulated in Canada sloughing away was I scrubbed myself vigorously. I actually had to drain the water twice before I was sure I was reasonably clean, and even then it took another tub full of water to get my hair clean as well. The shampoo that I'd been provided smelled faintly of flowers, but since I had never taken the time to sniff any in my life I couldn't identify the scent with precision. Nonetheless, the viscous liquid worked well, and I took a second to dry myself off before I exited the tub and re-entered the bedroom.

After I had helped myself to the underclothes in a nearby drawer, I found myself stunned by the sheer size and variety of the wardrobe I'd been given. I found myself immediately gravitating to pants and shirts that were black and red in color; I disdained the dresses and skirts, as I found them to be uncomfortable and impractical.

I held up one T-shirt, a black, tight-fitting one emblazoned with a red Oriental-style dragon, and immediately found it to be to my liking. I concluded that the two colors went rather well together, and with this in mind I chose a pair of black denim jeans to compliment the shirt as I pulled it over my shoulders.

I noticed something on the bedside table as I finished getting into my jeans, a small parcel of plain, wrinkled brown paper that hadn't been there before I'd taken my bath. I immediately recognized the untidy scrawl upon it to be Logan's, and I moved warily to take into my hands as I read the message he'd left for me.

_Squirt,_

_Saw these in a spare bedroom last night and thought you might like them._

_-Logan_

I made no attempt to hide my suspicion. _Is this his idea of a joke?_ I wondered, peeling the packaging away and tearing it to pieces.

Any doubts of Logan's sincerity promptly vanished as I discovered what the small package contained. Two gauntlets of black leather, made to cover the area of the wrist, weighed heavy in my hands, and they were studded the entire way around with small, metal, conical spikes. With shaking fingers, I snapped them in place around one arm, then the next, and found them to be aesthetically pleasing, at least in my eyes if no one else's.

I admired the quality of the leatherwork. Such a thing must have been rather expensive; these were of fine quality, made to last, and I wondered just how much Logan had spent on them.

I struggled to keep a straight face and failed. Logan hadn't _needed_ to acquire these for me. I hadn't asked or even hinted that I would need such a thing, and yet he went out of his way to give them to me.

I could still smell his scent upon the wristbands, that stink I had come to hate so much, but now I found my revulsion giving way to something….something else. Logan's scent seemed to be comforting, in a weird sort of way.

I felt that strange feeling make my chest twist again. When had this happened?

I couldn't afford to worry about it right now, though. My stomach was running on empty after an entire night of sleep, and the sound of something sizzling in the kitchen caused me to push all thoughts of Logan to the back of my mind, at least for now.

I heard my gut roar as I headed downstairs, and the sound was so loud that all the frenetic activity in the kitchen ground to a halt for just a moment as I sat down at the table. I felt the eyes of the other X-Men on me, and that feeling of self-consciousness that I hated so much descended on my shoulders like a thick blanket.

"Like, good morning," Kitty said, breaking the awkward pause. "Sleep well?"

"Yes," I replied. Now that I thought about it, I _had _slept well. Like, really well. Without any nightmares or anything.

I couldn't remember the last time that had happened.

I practically inhaled the first plate Jean put in front of me, and I slugged down my glass of something called orange juice with one massive gulp. I found the sweet, tangy taste enjoyable, and I drained what was left in the carton before devouring a stack of what I heard Kurt refer to as "pancakes." They were good and very filling, but as I stuffed myself I noticed Logan directing his gaze on the gift he had given me, the gauntlets I now wore. I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the feeling his attention gave me, but then Sunspot had to go and call me out on it.

"Where'd you get _those?"_ he asked, looking at my arms enviously.

I made a mental note to cut off Sunspot's fingers later. "Logan gave them to me," I said, after a moment's hesitation. I was almost embarrassed to admit it, but why I was so conscientious about it I had no idea.

"You like 'em, then?" Logan grunted, shoveling eggs into his mouth.

I faltered. "Yes, I do," I admitted. "I also appreciate their potential for both offensive and defensive capabilities should I find myself under attack."

This caused everyone but myself and Logan to burst into gales of hilarity, but yet again the punchline was lost on me. Logan just rolled his eyes and went back to his meal, but for just a moment I'd swear he had a pleased grin on his face before it was replaced by his customary scowl.

Was it that important to him, that I liked his gift? Perhaps there was more to Logan than I previously thought.

I realized how ridiculous that conclusion was only moments after I'd drawn it. _Right, and Satan is ice-skating his way to work, _I thought.

I cleared another two plates before my appetite was completely sated, and as I pushed my chair back Jean shoved a small bag into my hands.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"School," Jean replied. "You'll need notebooks and such for classes, Laura. I think you'll find everything you need in there, including your textbooks."

"Uh…thanks," I muttered awkwardly, turning to leave, but Jean caught my arm for just a moment and held me back as the kitchen table began to empty.

"Don't be nervous," she said quietly. "You'll do fine."

I stepped back. "You're reading my mind, aren't you?" I snarled. "Get out!"

Jean snickered. "I don't need to read your thoughts to know you're anxious about starting school," she said. "_Everyone's _nervous on their first day. I know _I _certainly was."

"Oh." I deflated somewhat and looked away.

"It's all right," Jean clapped me on the shoulder, my unspoken apology not lost upon her. "Just remember one thing, okay?"

"And what would that be?"

She suddenly turned serious. "The school has a certain policy concerning…_us._"

"'Us?'" I asked, confused.

"You know, mutants," Jean elaborated. "None of us are allowed to use our powers while on campus, and that also includes you, Laura. Principal Kelly has a zero-tolerance policy about it, so if you use your abilities, even by accident, you'll probably be expelled."

I had no idea what "expelled" was, but I determined it to be a bad occurrence from the way Jean talked about it. "I understand," I nodded, filing that tip away for later. It made sense, now that I thought about it, since the majority of regular humans seemed to be violently anti-mutant from what little I had observed about them. It was logical, therefore, that a bigot like this Kelly person would have such a rule in place.

"Better hurry," Jean gave me a gentle push toward the door. "Logan's driving the van this time, and he doesn't wait for _anyone._"

My ears picked up the sound of an idling engine just outside, and since I had no desire to walk all the way there I shouldered my backpack awkwardly and made a hasty dash for the door. I caught my progenitor just as he was starting to pull away, and the tires screeched as he stopped suddenly in order for me to get inside.

Kitty opened the door for me, and I squeezed into the very back row just as she slid it shut again with a loud click. I lurched forward as Logan hit the gas, and I struggled vainly for my seat belt as car began to go faster.

Apparently you didn't have to be mentally stable to have a driver's license. By the time Logan pulled into the curb, I wasn't the only one whose hand was stuck to the arm of the seat. I was actually kinda _dizzy_ after the way Logan steered, and I had never been more grateful to feel the grass (or, in this case, asphalt) under my shoes as I was when he let us out of the car.

I turned to go, but Logan stopped me with a soft growl.

"What is it?" I asked irritably. I was probably going to be late if I didn't get a move on.

"Try not to eviscerate anyone," Logan told me drily. "Anyone gives ya a hard time, you let _me _know about it, hear?"

"Fine," I shrugged noncommittally. I had no intention of doing that; whatever I might have done to any potential bullies probably paled in comparison to what _Logan _had in mind.

"See ya this afternoon," he snorted, turning to leave. "An' remember, don' go usin' yer powers in school!"

I rolled my eyes as soon as he was unable to see me do so, and as the van pulled away I tried to make myself as inconspicuous as I could. It wasn't hard, because I was experienced in that sort of thing, but nevertheless being caught in what was almost like a herd of stampeding cattle made me uneasy as I headed toward the door.

I glanced at the slip of paper in my hand. I had gotten it courtesy of Kitty, and apparently my daily academic schedule had been printed upon it. I only had to glance at it once before I knew where I was headed, and I vaguely noticed that the hallway smelled like disinfectant, stale chewing gum, and the pungent scent of packed humanity.

The school itself was somewhat sizeable, with three floors of classrooms and a gymnasium next to the basketball and soccer fields. It was certainly larger than the small country schools I'd caught glimpses of back up north. I could hear snatches of conversation as I made my way up the stairs, and I think it was by luck more than anything else that I found my "homeroom" so quickly.

I don't believe in luck, though. Haven't for years. I usually make some of my own if I need any.

The bell rang shrilly just as I approached the door, and I fought not to flinch as it made my ears throb. It may not have bothered anyone else, but with my enhanced hearing, that damn thing was _loud._ I made a mental note to bring some earplugs tomorrow, if the Professor had any lying around.

The classroom was smaller than I expected. The desks sat in neat little rows, six wide and six deep, and from the number of people in them I guessed that I was the last to arrive. I tried not to draw any attention to myself as I searched for a vacant spot, and I could see the instructor glancing over the rim of his glasses at me.

"Ms. Howlett?"

It took me a moment to realize that he was talking to _me._ Howlett was my name now, I remembered belatedly, and I briefly considered stabbing myself as every eye turned to rest squarely on my face.

"Yeah?" I tried to keep my tone casual.

The teacher, an old guy with a pot-belly and big glasses that made his eyes look huge, glared sternly at me."I realize this is your first day with us, but in the future I expect you to be more punctual when you arrive in the morning. I'll let it pass this time, but I will not turn a blind eye again should you be late a second time. Understand?"

I was just about to tell him to go jump off a cliff when I remembered that education instructors seemed to demand a certain amount of respect when being addressed. I had no respect for anyone at this point, save maybe for Logan, and even then I wasn't sure if I actually respected him or was just intimidated by him.

Maybe it was both.

In any case, however , I bit back the stinging retort on my tongue and lowered my eyes so as not to look at him directly. It was a lesson I'd learned from the wolves I'd encountered from time to time in Canada. You show the alpha male submission by not looking him directly in the face, and I figured that if the same strategy worked for the wolves it would probably work well enough here. Maybe it was more of a subliminal thing with humans.

"I understand…_sir,_" I said, having to force that last word out.

The old buzzard was apparently satisfied, because he leaned back in his cheap chair and pointed toward the back row. "Glad to hear it. Now, if you'll kindly take a seat, we can begin taking roll."

"Uh…" I felt so stupid for saying it, but there was no way around it if he hadn't noticed it already. "There aren't any seats left."

"Is that so?" the instructor arched an eyebrow. "Well, we can fix that rather easily. Chase!"

A boy in the middle row stood up promptly. "Yeah?"

"Go to the supply room across the hall and fetch me a spare desk, would you?" the teacher asked. "You and Ms. Howlett can bring it in together."

"Right," the boy, Chase, nodded, motioning for me to follow him. "C'mon. It's this way."

I had no choice but to follow him out, so that is what I did.

The corridor was eerily silent as we fell in step, and Chase glanced sidelong me as I surreptitiously studied him. "You're new here, right?" he asked, his voice friendly.

"Yes."

"Where are you from?"

I hesitated. "Up north."

"So, you're from Washington State or something?"

I briefly considered lying as to my location of origin, but I decided that someone like Chase would have no reason to go around asking questions if I told the truth. After all, he seemed like the kind of person who'd take you at your word without any enticement at all.

I labeled him a fool right then and there for being so naïve and trustful. His mouth would be the death of him one day.

"I'm from Canada," I said at last.

Chase's eyes widened. "You don't have an accent, though."

"I only lived there for a few months. I wasn't born there."

Chase opened the door to the room the teacher had indicated, and as he did so I got a good look at his profile while he reached for one of the spare desks that lay stacked floor-to-ceiling.

The first thing I concluded about him was that he was an athlete of some kind. His arms and legs were well-toned and well-defined, implying a steady routine of heavy physical activity, and his skin was tanned, presumably from countless days of training outside. His shirt had a snug fit, and even through the fabric I could discern the outline of his pectoral and lower abdominal muscles. His hair was sandy blonde and styled into small spikes, and his face was fixed in what seemed like a permanently friendly expression. His teeth, I noticed, were almost completely white, and his cheeks and forehead were free of the acne that I'd seen on many of the other students I'd passed in the hall. I put his height at between five-foot-eleven and six-foot-two, so he stood a good head and a half taller than me. He seemed to be roughly the same age I was.

I filed all this information away in case I'd have need of it later, which, frankly, I doubted. Chase seemed like the kind of person who succeeded at everything he did, and even if this was the case I didn't really care. He was just another face in the crowd to me.

I concentrated on lifting the desk from the floor, and I could feel the sinews in my arms straining as I swung it high over my head while Chase looked on in astonishment.

"What are you staring at?" I snapped.

"Nothing," Chase rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I just…didn't know you were so strong, that's all."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," I stated matter-of-factly as I headed back to the classroom.

I could feel his eyes on me the entire way back, and let me tell you, it was both baffling and kinda creepy. I had no idea why he would study me so intently, unless he had some sinister motive in mind, but the someone like Chase it seemed ridiculous to even consider such a thing.

I set the desk down outside as my temper began to fray. "Either you tell me exactly what you're staring at or I'm going to cut out your eyeballs," I told him without looking his way.

Chase faltered. "I…I wasn't looking at anything," he stammered, and I knew immediately that he was lying. "It's just…"

"Just what?" I demanded, unsheathing my claws despite what Logan had told me.

Chase gasped. "Holy crap! You…You're a mutant, aren't you?"

"Want to make something of it?" I growled, thinking that he was some kind of bigot.

"No!" Chase shook his head vigorously. "I think it's awesome that you're a mutant! I think it'd be really cool to have powers like yours!"

My glare softened. "What?"

"What did you take me for, some kind of racist?" Chase grinned. "I've met mutants before, ya know. Three of them work at my dad's office and they come over for dinner sometimes."

"Oh," I said quietly, before glancing at him again. "You still didn't answer my question, though. Why were you looking at me like that? You were doing it the whole way back from the supply room, and don't think I didn't notice."

Chase's cheeks turned a curious red color that I assumed was from increased blood flow that particular area. "It was, uh, nothing," he muttered, but I knew immediately that he was lying. "It's just…well…"

"Oh, forget it," I sighed exasperatedly. "Just help me bring this in, would you?"

He nodded and gripped the other end of the desk as I lifted it off floor a second time, and I shoved the classroom door open with my foot to let us in. We negotiated the rows of desks and somehow avoided knocking into the heads or arms of the other students, and Chase was panting slightly as he finally set it down in the middle of the fourth row.

"Thanks for the help, Laura," he grinned at me.

I bristled. "How do you know my name?"

"I caught a glimpse of Mr. Rotwood's attendance list on the way out," Chase winked. "And since I know pretty much everyone else in here, I figured 'Laura' had to be you."

"Go away," I told him irritably, but my waspish remark seemed to have no dampening effect on his mood. Chase merely flashed that stupid smile my way again and sat down a few desks over, and as soon as he was out of earshot Kitty, who was sitting next to me, turned to whisper under her breath.

"Like, oh my God!" she squeaked. "That was Chase Lancaster!"

"What's your point?" I asked, confused. _Why do I need to care who the hell he is?_

"Chase is, like, the hottest guy in school," Kitty whispered frenetically. "He's vice-president of the SBA _and _captain of the lacrosse team that made the state championship last year. There's not a single girl in this entire school who doesn't have a crush on him!"

"I'm still waiting for a reason to care," I told her.

"Chase is, like, _the_ most unattainable guy," Kitty elaborated. "He's still single, and now he's, like, totally into you! You've been here for five minutes and you've already caught his eye! Way to go, Laura!"

She raised a hand to "give me five" but I didn't respond. "I don't understand what being "into" someone entails," I admitted. "Please explain."

"Chase totally likes you, idiot," Kitty punched me playfully in the arm. "He's been glued to you ever since you showed up!"

"So you're saying that he finds me desirable as a mate?" I asked, using another wolf analogy because I had no other frame of reference.

"Absolutely," Kitty nodded. "Go to the library and check out that book!"

"What do books have to do with this?"

She sighed. "What I meant was that you should totally start going out with him. Chase is a caring and sweet guy, and he's got a lot of integrity. You'll like him."

"I don't find any of those traits to be desirable," I replied. "And in any case, I have no interest in what you are saying. I prefer my own company and my own thoughts, and even if Chase is 'into' me, which I doubt, I am not interested in him…_at all._"

"He's not gonna give up on you, ya know," Kitty told me. "And you should feel privileged: most girls would kill to go on a date with him, Laura. And yet, out of all the people in the school, he chose you."

"I am not most girls," I said flatly, and Kitty took the hint to drop the subject. She fell silent, but even so I could not banish the seed of self-doubt that she'd planted in my head, no matter how hard I tried. Something began to gnaw at me, and I spared a glance in Chase's direction when I was sure he wasn't looking.

I suppose he _did _fit the description of "handsome." His face was well-featured, as though chiseled from marble like the statues in Xavier's office, and his hands seemed to have a dexterity that belied their size. Certainly they were big enough to completely cover mine.

I idly adjusted the size of one of the gauntlets Logan had given me. I had to give Chase credit, I thought, for being open-minded about me being a mutant. I sensed that he wasn't lying about _that, _at least, and from what I had seen so far people with such opinions were in the vast minority. The rest of the students seemed to treat the people from Xavier's with a mix of indifference and outright malice, as though they were a lower-life form than normal humans and not deserving of equality.

And Chase had taken my surly personality in stride as though it were not even there. In fact, my snappiness seemed to have the _opposite _effect on him than it did on everyone else. Instead of pushing him away, it only seemed to increase his interest in me, if what Kitty said was true.

Not that I had any intention of pursuing such a thing. First off, I had no experience at all with that kind of thing, and I found young men of my age group to be smelly and boasting a superior and inflated opinion of themselves despite the lack of anything worth bragging about. They fought amongst themselves constantly for dominance, and were driven by an overwhelming need to dominate or control everything they saw before them, and they seemed to be fueled by a mix of what I'd heard Jean refer to as "testosterone and hormones."

But, I grudgingly admitted, Chase seemed to be the exception to that rule. He _had_ made an effort to be friendly, after all, and he had taken my being a mutant in stride. What put me off about him, though was that he was so damn _cheerful. _That smile he had seemed to be nailed to his face, and his bright outlook on almost anything made me want to gag.

I may be a pessimist, but in my defense it was a philosophy I learned early on in life. Chad, however, was a person who looked on the positive side of _everything._

The shriek of the bell cut through my musings like a knife, and I saw Chase wave cheerily to me as he filed out of the classroom.

I didn't return the gesture as I slung my backpack over my shoulder. I had other things to worry about, like figuring out how the hell I was supposed to get to first period. It was, according to my itinerary, a chemistry class, which would have been fine if the thought of all the test tubes and laboratories brought back memories of HYDRA. I shuddered involuntary, trying to push them away, and I shut my eyes tight as I descended the stairs.

I would not let these memories conquer me. I was free of HYDRA, and I would _not _allow it to dominate me. I wasn't "X23" anymore; I was Laura Howlett, and now I was my _own _person and no one else's.

I didn't really need my schedule to help me find the room I was looking for. My nose picked up the smell of stale chemicals easily, and all I had to do was follow it to its source. That source, while I'm on the topic, was a large classroom with walls painted a stark, piercing white, and instead of desks it was furnished with long tables that were covered with flasks and other instruments of science. I fought against another bad memory as it threatened to resurface, and by the time I had taken a seat, I was starting to shake.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. "Are you ok?"

I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw Chase sitting behind me. _Just what I need,_ I groaned silently. "I'm fine," I said aloud.

"You don't look fine," Chase pointed out. "You're even starting to go pale."

"I'm. Fine," I said, through gritted teeth.

"Okay, okay," Chase put his hands up in a placating gesture, and he actually _did _sound rather apologetic. "Sorry for asking. I didn't mean to intrude or anything, Laura."

I realized that perhaps I had been a bit too quick to jump on him like that. "I'm just…not good at this kind of thing," I lied. "This place brings back bad memories."

"Tell me about it," Chase laughed, and I found the sound to be rather pleasing. "I _suck_ at chemistry. I'm barely scraping by with a C, and that's my highest yet! Trust me, this stuff is nearly impossible to understand."

"It is impossible because you believe it to be impossible," I replied, remembering something I'd heard one of my HYDRA instructors say once. "Your lack of confidence is what's impeding you, not the class itself."

"Never thought of it that way," Chase admitted, shrugging modestly. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Laura."

I realized then that I'd been engaging him in conversation without knowing I was doing so. Something about this guy made my lips loosen, so to speak, and I resolved _not _to let it happen again. It would be disastrous if I let something slip about HYDRA, or the fact that I was cloned from one of the most feared mutants on the planet.

I suddenly found myself wondering why the hell I even _cared _what Chase thought. He meant nothing to me, so why bother worrying about it?

I shook my head slightly. He was just…easy to talk to, somehow. Perhaps that was his greatest weapon, this ability to get people to open up whenever he started talking.

He may not have been a mutant, but the fact that Chase got me talking so easily made him a _serious_ liability to the cover identity Xavier had provided for me. I glanced around the classroom, as if assessing each of the other students as a potential threat, but I was momentarily startled when one of them, a girl with curly blonde hair, looked right at me and shot me a look of pure malevolence.

I was slightly taken aback, and I was unsure of what I had done to earn her hostility. However, I merely chalked it up to the anti-mutant prejudice that had infected most of the student body and returned to the set of glass test tubes in front of me. The instructor, a woman this time, had given us the task of bonding some chemical with another chemical to create a new substance altogether, and to be honest, that was easy for me. Despite what I'd said to Chase, my time at HYDRA had familiarized me with many basic chemistry formulae, and I hardly had any need to really concentrate as I went about my task. This freed up my mind to once again start dwelling on how everything in my life had so suddenly changed, and as a result the rest of the class went by in a blur. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that the time seemed to go by at an accelerated rate; it seemed like no more than a moment after I'd arrived than that goddamn bell dismissed us again, and I sped by Chase before he could say anything more to me.

I hadn't given the girl who'd glared at me a second thought.

It was a mistake I'd come to regret in about five seconds.

I'd barely gotten halfway out the door when I felt someone grab me by the wrist and yank me into a small alcove. I was so surprised that, to my shame, I was taken completely off-guard, and my head made a sizeable dent when it connected with a nearby locker. Stars danced in front of my eyes, and as my vision cleared I found myself hemmed in by Blondie and a few others whom I assumed to be her lackeys. Judging from the way they stood, I deduced that the first girl was the undisputed leader of her pack, though she certainly didn't _look _very threatening.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, new girl?" she hissed, tightening her grip on my hand so that it began to hurt.

Savage anger welled inside me, and the only thing that kept me from eviscerating her right then and there was the thought of facing Logan when I got home. As it was, I merely twisted to the side to break her hold on me, and I shifted my stance into a fighting crouch as I growled my defiance. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, and it was true; I had no idea what I'd done to make her so angry.

My eyes flicked from side to side as the group closed in on me, and my fingers _itched_ to unsheathe my claws as the Blonde Bimbo elaborated. "Did you really think we were going to allow a _freshman _like you to go out with _him?_ If anyone is going to start dating Chase, it's _me,_ got it?"

"I'm _not_ 'dating' him!" I exclaimed, outraged at the accusation. "I don't even like him!"

"Bullshit," she spat back. "I don't even know what he sees in a Goth-wannabe like you, Howlett. Besides," she added snidely, looking me up and down. "It's not as if you have anything to offer."

"Coming from you, I find that statement to be ironic," I retorted. "And even if I _were_ dating Chase, which I'm not, I don't see what gives you the right to make that decision for me."

"Do you have any idea who I am?" she asked,, drawing herself up with self-importance. "_I'm_ Samantha Kelly. My dad's the _principal,_ scruffbag, which means that the student body answers to _me."_

I couldn't believe her arrogance, but even so I ground my teeth, desperately trying to clamp down on the urge to swipe her head off, and I tried to look for an opening in the enemy's ranks as I sought for an avenue of escape. "I'll keep it in mind," I said, my tone dangerously quiet. I dunno what her problem was, but let me tell you, it didn't take long for me to start hating her.

I turned to leave, but Miss Bitch grabbed my hair and yanked on it, _hard._ Lances of pain shot through my skull as she almost yanked out a fistful, and I let out a bestial snarl as she hissed under her breath. "We're not done here, loser! This is _my _school, and you need to learn to respect your betters!"

That did it. Whatever remnant of self-control I had struggled to hold on to promptly vanished as rage made my vision turn red. _No one_ hits me without paying the price, and I let out a full-fledged, deep growl as I whirled around again. My claws slid out with a loud _ka-shink,_ and in my anger I lashed out at a nearby locker with a massive, two-handed swipe. The adamantium blades cut through the cheap metal as though it were paper, and Samantha and her cronies gaped at the jagged tears that I'd left. Fear-stink began pouring off of them in waves, and I saw the terror in their eyes and exulted in it.

I figured I might as well go for broke, so I made a show of licking the edge of my claws delicately as I attempted to narrow my eyes like Logan's. When I spoke, my tone was completely calm, and I sounded more as if I were stating a fact than making a threat.

"Touch me again," I stated, "And I will cut you into eight pieces."

"Ewww," Kelly's face screwed up in disgust. "You're a _mutant,_ aren't you? Gross! There's nothing more disgusting than people like _you!"_

"Look into a mirror the next time you try saying that," I suggested. "Now get out of my way, or I'm going to break something."

"You wouldn't dare," Kelly sniffed disdainfully.

I looked her right in the eye. "Are you _really_ willing to take that chance? It'd be awfully hard to run your prison while you're in traction, bitch-wad."

I could see the doubt in her eyes, and I took that opportunity to shove her roughly out of the way. "I'm going to be late," I stated firmly. "Please leave."

"You know I'm not the only one who's gonna come after you," Kelly sputtered. "A freak like _you_ doesn't deserve Chase, and there's more than a few people who'd agree with me!"

"That shouldn't be a problem for you, then, because I am not interested in him," I said as I walked away.

"This isn't over!" Kelly screeched. "I'll make your life a living nightmare, mutie!"

I almost laughed at that. I was about as afraid of Kelly as I'd be of a bug on the bottom of my shoe. I'd fought the deadliest agents of both HYDRA _and _SHIELD, lived for months in a wilderness where each day was a battle for survival, and now I was supposed to be afraid of _her?_

Yeah, right.

The rest of the day passed pretty uneventfully after that, but I kept my guard up until school let out in case Kelly tried anything else. I caught her following me a few times, but she never got close enough to actually _do_ anything. And the catcalls she and her cronies started throwing my way really didn't make much of an impact; I just ignored them by fantasizing about what kind of sound Kelly would make as I tore out her spleen and made her eat it.

Speaking of eating, Kitty and I shared the same lunch hour, but the only reason I ate with her in the cafeteria was to avoid having to talk to Chase. I generally prefer to eat alone from force of habit, but that guy was starting to make me uncomfortable in more ways than one. Even that, however, didn't stop him from glancing my way now and then, to Kitty's delight. I could _feel_ him looking at me, and to be honest, I wasn't sure whether to be offended or flattered. I'd certainly had no interest in guys before; why change that now?

Chase was starting to confuse me. No matter how many times I tried to push him away, he _just kept coming._ I could insult him or make a smart remark, and he'd just laugh it off or take it in stride.

I wondered briefly if he was ingesting some of the local narcotics that some of the males in school seemed to favor. It would certainly explain his cheery outlook on everything; no matter what, Chase always kept being so…_nice._

Algebra class was fun, though, and it helped to take my mind off of Kelly and Chase and everything else. I had no idea why everyone seemed to hate the subject so much; the theorems came easily to me, and I even got something that the teacher called "extra credit" for grasping the material so quickly. I had no idea what extra credit was, but apparently it was something to be desired, if the envious looks of my classmates were anything to go on.

But even though I enjoyed the experience (not that I would be admitting it to Logan, God forbid), by the time two o'clock rolled around I was ready to be out of there. I realized now, looking back, why so many of my classmates kept watching the clock; school may not be bad at first, but it gets rather tedious as the day drags on. Besides, I had a mountain of "homework" that I needed to get done.

I surmised that the purpose of "homework" was to reinforce the lessons that we received in school, but everyone seemed to think of it as more of a scourge than anything else. I thought, privately, that if they would just shut up and quit whining they'd get it done a lot faster.

I blinked rapidly as I emerged into the bright mid-afternoon sun, and I rubbed my eyes furiously for a moment before my vision cleared. I headed into the parking lot, presumably where Logan was waiting to pick me up, and the smell of the asphalt made me grimace as the tar almost bubbled in the searing heat.

Logan, however, wasn't the only one waiting for me.

Chase was, too.

I tried my best to put on an indifferent face. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," he shrugged. "Just curious how your first day went, that's all."

"Why do you care?"

"It's hard being the new kid," Chase said. "I know if someone had helped me when _I'd_ first moved here things would have been a lot easier."

"So you think I am in need of assistance?" I growled. "I don't _need_ your help."

"I never said you did," Chase grinned. "I just want you to know that, if you do, you know where to find me."

With that, he turned around and disappeared into the crowd, whistling cheerfully all the way.

I fought to keep my face straight. Did Chase really care that much, I wondered, or was he merely trying to impress me so I would "go out" with him? I didn't even know what it meant to "go out" with someone, to be honest; I was literally flying blind, but apparently he didn't know that.

Maybe he _was_ just trying to be nice, I thought reluctantly. He did seem like a…_nice_ kind of person.

I had never been more grateful to see Logan pulling up in the white van that the Professor had loaned him. It gave me a reason not to think about Chase or anyone else.

"Lucky," Kitty nudged me with a knowing wink. "You don't know how good you've got it, Laura."

"I think Samantha Kelly might disagree with you," I muttered.

Kitty's grin crashed to the floor as the others piled into the car behind us. "Oh, crap…I should have seen this coming," she murmured. "Kelly and _her_ crowd won't take kindly to Chase being interested in you, especially since you're a mutant."

"You seem to be implying that it is socially unacceptable to the other students for mutants and non-mutants to 'go out' with each other," I said.

"I'm not _implying _it, I'm flat-out telling you that it's true," Kitty shook her head sadly. "This could get complicated _really_ fast. Kelly is the principal's daughter, and he hates mutants, so she could probably get away with anything as long as she does it to you."

"Good," I replied.

Kitty stared at me. _"What?"_

"Having at least one enemy helps keep me on my toes," I grinned fiercely. "Otherwise I might get too complacent."

Kitty shook her head. "Your personality is so dark it that it smudges mine."

"I am what I am," I shrugged unapologetically.

Logan spoke up from the driver's seat. "So how'd half-pint do on her first day, Kitty?" he asked, directing his question at her rather than at me.

I paled. Kitty was a natural blabbermouth, and even though I had no affection for Principal Kelly's spoiled brat of a daughter, I had no doubt that Logan would come gunning for her if Kitty spilled the beans about what had happened earlier. I also didn't want her to mention Chase, either; the thought of what Logan would do to him for even _looking _at me that way sent chills down my spine.

"It was okay," I said, cutting Kitty off with a tell-tale look. "Confusing, at times, but…it wasn't too bad."

"I'd like to see him try to go to a parent-teacher conference," Bobby snickered.

"One more crack like that an' yer _walkin' _back to the Institute, buster," Logan growled.

Bobby shut his mouth instantly, and I took a moment to hope fervently that Logan would take my word for it and not pursue the issue of my first school day anymore. It wasn't possible to lie to him, since he could detect lies by listening to my heartbeat.

"You got any homework?" Logan asked.

I hesitated; I'd hoped to resume reading _Lord of the Rings_ when I got back to my room. "Yes. But there's this book I'm reading-"

"Tough. You ain't doin' nothin' 'till that homework's done, hear?" Logan interrupted. "An' I _mean _nothin', ya understand?"

I started to argue for the sake of being contrary, but I realized that it wouldn't do any good. Trying to change Logan's mind when it had already been made up was about as effective as trying to cut down an oak tree with a feather.

"Yes," I said finally, fighting back my disappointment. "I do."

"Glad to hear it," Logan muttered. "It's too late in th'day fer yellin' at kids."

I wouldn't have told it to anyone, but in retrospect I suppose I should have been glad for the distraction my homework would provide me.

It would keep my mind _off_ of _Chase Lancaster…_

A/N: WHOO! That was a LONG chapter! XD But ya know what? You guys are TOTALLY WORTH IT! ^^ And it looks like things are getting interesting for Laura, eh? Will Chase win her in the end? Will Samantha Kelly succeed in her anti-mutant vendetta? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! I've only gotten a handful so far (and a heartfelt thanks goes out to those who DID review, by the way), and I want to hear what YOU have to say! YOUR OPINION COUNTS, so if you have ANY thoughts on how I can make this story better for YOU to read, don't be shy! ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque

P.S: To any of you who might be concerned that Chase is a little too perfect: don't worry. He isn't everything that he appears to be.


	4. Chapter 4

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 4: Family Time

_(A/N: Full credit for the idea for this chapter goes to All Knowing 1, whose excellent advice formed the core of this scene. All Knowing 1, I salute you, and submit forthwith the end result of your suggestion. ^^)_

I let out a pained grunt as I found myself flying backwards through the air, and I probably would have kept going if the wall of the Danger Room hadn't brought me to a painful and abrupt stop. My entire body made a large dent in the steel-alloy that fenced me in like a rat in a maze, and I felt my vision turn gray, almost like static on a television, as the impact stunned me.

Logan let out a snarl and charged at me again, and I found myself dearly missing the stack of homework assignments that I had completed less than an hour ago. I would have picked the tediousness of algorithms and grammar over _this_ in a heartbeat.

I only just avoided being sliced in two as Logan lunged, and I cursed the Professor for an idiot as my progenitor's claws rent the wall behind the spot where'd I'd just been standing. Cue-ball had had the bright idea to encourage some "bonding" between me and Logan when I'd completed my schoolwork, but apparently, as smart as he seemed, Xavier didn't realize that Logan's idea of "bonding" probably would have constituted a legitimate reason for a visit from Social Services.

Or maybe a trip to the freaking _psych ward_.

I gasped as his foot connected with my rib cage, and I spun end over end as Logan continued his version of "combat instruction." He'd apparently taken it upon himself to give me special one-on-one lessons to improve my fighting skills, and subsequently he'd spent the past thirty minutes kicking my ass from one end of the Danger Room to the other.

Logan didn't grant me any special treatment, though, and even if he'd tried I wouldn't have accepted any. I neither wanted nor needed any favoritism from _him, _and in fact, he seemed to be going harder on me than he did on anyone else.

That didn't mean I had to like it though.

"You have no technique," he growled, hauling me up by the scruff of the neck and shoving me to my feet. I snarled in defiance and lashed out at his Achilles tendon, but he avoided the blow by taking one step back and kicking me in the face. "No fluidity."

I let out an involuntary hiss of discomfort as his shoe connected with my cheek, and I struggled to maintain my balance as I lunged at his head with a powerful haymaker.

Logan tilted his chin to one side, and my fist _whooshed_ as it rushed past him. He caught my hand on the rebound and bent it almost all the way backward, and I felt tears of agony squinch from my eyes as he slowly forced me to my knees.

"Yer all power an' no finesse," Logan continued, apparently not noticing my discomfort. "Yer style is unrefined, unpracticed…_sloppy."_

I gave him a defiant glare and tried to sweep his legs out from under him. It almost worked, but Logan recovered his balance quicker than I had anticipated. "Good," he nodded, letting my wrist go with a wrench. "A nice try, but I kin see what move yer makin' before ya even make it. Ya can't let yer opponent have that advantage, hear?"

"Get up," he added, staring down at me. "We ain't done."

I tried to get to my feet, staggered drunkenly, and promptly flopped back down again. Logan gazed at me with contempt, and I felt my face flush with a curious heat as I fought to focus through my embarrassment. The last thing I wanted to do was look weak in front of _him._

"You think Magneto's gonna wait fer to catch yer breath?" Logan demanded, hoisting me to my feet again. "You think he's gonna play fair? Chivalry's got no place in fightin'; he'll use any advantage he kin git, an' so should you!"

I unsheathed my claws instantly and went straight for his groin, but Logan twisted to one side and let me run right by him. He laced both hands together and brought a double-fisted blow onto the small of my back, and I let out a yelp as I felt the pain shooting down my legs.

"_Now _yer startin' t'think like I want ya to," Logan nodded in approval. "Ya shoulda done that from the beginnin'. Never be afraid to take an opening if'n ya happen to see one."

I sucked in another breath, and I felt anger rising as I realized that Logan completely outclassed me. I should have expected it, I knew; Logan, after all, was trained in almost every known fighting style, and unlike myself, he'd had _decades _of practicing to hone those skills. I suddenly comprehended, in retrospect, that Logan had been holding himself back during our last two encounters; for all my enhancements, he probably could have beaten me easily.

Just like he was doing now.

"Yer a quick learner, I'll give ya that," Logan said, throwing a towel in my face. "But you ain't even scratched the surface, half-pint. You an' I are gonna meet in 'ere every day for training, an' we're gonna keep at it 'till ya kin match me blow-for-blow."

I didn't have enough breath in my body to respond, so I just clutched by aching midsection instead and scowled at him.

Logan's face was unsympathetic. "Hurts, don't it?"

I nodded.

"That's good," Logan replied. "Pain ain't nothin' more than weakness leavin' the body; it means yer payin' attention."

"Thanks for the consideration," I muttered viciously.

"Pain's a good motivator," Logan continued, as if he had not heard. "It ain't fun an' it ain't pretty, but yer gonna learn fast. I ain't never enjoyed hittin' on anyone smaller'n I am, but this here's th'only way yer gonna learn anythin'. Fightin' is somethin' ya become good at when you do it _all the time, _an' there ain't anyone here who's been in more brawls than me. Remember, this is combat trainin', not a trip to the garden out back. You _want_ t'git better at this, doncha?"

I nodded grudgingly. Godammit, I _hate_ it when he's right.

"Well, this here's how _I _learned it, an' if'n it worked fer me, it'll work fer you," Logan told me sternly. "If anythin', ya oughta stop whinin' like a baby an' show some gratitude, squirt! I ain't doin' this fer _my _benefit, ya know_._ I'm teachin' ya everythin' I can an' then some because I'll be _damned _if yer gonna go out on missions to God-knows-where without knowin' how t'hold yer own in a scrap! You kin fight five men at a time an' win, but I'll show ya how to take on five _hundred!_ You can avoid bein' seen or heard, but I kin teach ya how t'become _really_ invisible!"

He knelt so that we could be eye-to-eye and held his hand out to me. "So, are ya ready t'continue, are ya gonna up an' quit on me?"

I struggled to my feet, panting heavily as a rapidly spreading bruise blossomed across my face.

"Never." If nothing else, I would have chosen to keep going just to spite him, if it came down to that.

Logan clasped me by the forearm, and he helped up just before launching a sideways kick at my left kidney. This time, though, I had suspected such deviousness from him and had braced myself for it; I blocked his foot with my own and unsheathed the pair of scything claws that lay behind my toes.

That was one advantage I had that Logan didn't. HYDRA had decided to fit me with weapons not only on my hands, but on my feet as well. I hadn't used them in the fight so far, but my wounded pride at having Logan thrash me so easily was starting to _seriously _grate on my nerves. My eyes narrowed in concentration as I dropped back into a low crouch as Logan tried to hit me in across the face, but this time I had had enough warning to sense what he was up to. I deflected it smoothly with a crescent-shaped sweep of my leg, and I reveled in Logan's momentary look of surprise as my foot-claws buried themselves in the sole of his shoe.

The injury would have been seriously debilitating to anyone else I may have been fighting, but to Logan it was less of an impediment and more of a minor nuisance. The healing factor that he and I shared allowed us to train without any regard to the normal safety procedures; wounds that would have killed a normal human sewed themselves up right before my eyes, as if an invisible zipper had closed the broken skin.

I could see the blood come spilling out of the two holes as the weapons drilled into the tender flesh of the sole of his foot. He snarled, more out of surprise than pain, and I pushed him back a few steps as I let the injured limb go with a savage wrench. I leapt high to avoid a slice that would have cut any normal person in two, and I saw the room spin-end-over-end as I vaulted over Logan's head and laid open the flesh of his back before landing just inches behind him. Logan roared like an angry lion and tried to catch my neck by forming his claws into a menacing X-shape, but I turned around just in time and caught his adamantium in my own.

Our fists met with a loud, ringing _clash_, and I could hear the metal rasping as each of us tried to overpower the other. I was almost face-to-face with him through the makeshift grille, and I noticed that the wounds I had inflicted on Logan had already healed without even forming a scar.

I lashed out with my heel and hit the space in Logan's ankle where the lower leg connected with the joint socket, and he buckled like a fallen tree as I dove in to seal my victory. I pounced, driving at his chest with all the force I could muster, but Logan rolled to one side and backhanded me across the face so hard that I _heard_ his knuckles grate across my adamantium skull. I staggered, winded and stunned, but as soon as I let my guard down I found myself once again being given flying lessons courtesy of Logan's steel-toed shoe.

I was ready for it this time, though. Instead of colliding with the wall I had dented earlier, I stuck one leg out behind me and rolled in mid-air to maximize my velocity. As soon as my heel touched the titanium, I pushed myself off with both claws held in front of me, and I lunged at Logan like a runaway train as I used the force of his kick against him.

My claws made a rather satisfying _skulk_ as they plunged into the soft, squishy part of Logan's midsection, the part that was not protected by his adamantium rib cage. I could not see it, but I knew instinctively that my claws had driven into him so deeply that their tips emerged out of his back, and I grinned fiercely up at him-

-Only to gasp, in agony, as he calmly brought his own weapons to bear and plunged them into my chest with a punishing, underhand blow. I stiffened as rods of red-hot agony pulsed through my body, as if every one of my nerves were on fire, and as I slid slowly to the ground, I could see the wounds I'd inflicted already beginning to close. Logan's expression hadn't even changed; he gave no indication of the pain he must have been feeling.

"Good effort," he chided me, glancing casually down at the blood-stains on his sleeveless T-Shirt. "But not good enough. Remember, ya ain't won th'fight 'till yer opponent's dead. Ya let down yer guard at th'last minute, Laura. If ya hadn't, ya may have even come close t'beatin' me. Still an' all, a good first try, even if ya did screw up. I think next time we should go back t'working simpler techniques; all that fancy flyin' stuff ya bin doin' ain't got no place in a real brawl. Th'basics, _those_ are fer fightin', not that flashy acrobatic crap."

"Go to Hell," I muttered, sucking in a pained breath as the holes in my stomach began to heal, as well. I could feel them sealing up as my body replicated the spilt blood and gastric juices, and seconds later there was no evidence to suggest that I'd ever been wounded, apart from six tell-tale slits in my shirt.

"We both know that the both of us have already been there at one time or another," Logan retorted. If that was meant to be a joke, I couldn't tell. Logan had an even smaller sense of humor than I did, and that was saying something.

"If I haven't been there before, I'm certainly there now," I told him sarcastically, rising to my feet. "I never realized how much you enjoyed eviscerating me."

"I don't," Logan replied flatly, mopping his brow with a towel that must have been at least as sweaty as he was. "Now whether ya believe me or not, that's yer problem."

"It's going to be _your_ problem in about five seconds," I threatened, my face red as a beet as perspiration rolled down my body. Every muscle in my body _ached; _just because I could heal myself didn't mean I never felt fatigued or tired. If the injuries I sustained were serious or numerous enough, I had to expend more and more energy to heal them.

And seeing as how I was locked in a metal box with Logan, I'd been using up a _lot_ of energy so far.

"No, it's not," Logan shook his head. "Yer done in, an' I need a cold beer an' a hot shower. Go gitcherself somethin' t'eat, Laura. There's no point in goin' any further t'day."

"I _want _to go further!"

"Ain't no point in burnin' yerself out. Know yer limits, kid."

I lost my temper right then and there. I _hated _that patronizing tone of his more than anything else, and no one on Earth could make me lose my temper quicker than Logan did. I felt like my rage begin bubbling over as the anxiety and nervousness I'd felt over the past few days tinged my vision with crimson. I clenched my fists so hard that my nails dug into my palms and made them bleed as I vented, _"I am not a child! __And I am not as weak and helpless as you think I am!"_

"Mebbe not, but no matter how much either of us might not like it, yer as close to bein' my kid as anyone can come!" Logan roared back, rounding on me with an anger to match my own. "I'm the closest thing you've got to a blood relative, an' you damn well know itl!"

I stood slowly, and when I opened my mouth, I made no attempt to disguise the anger or venom in my voice. "You're wrong," I said quietly, swinging open the door to the Danger Room with far more force than was necessary, "I may be your clone, but I will _never_ call you 'Father.'"

Logan did not reply.

A/N: Well, that probably could have gone better. And it looks like Laura has more than a few things to learn. But how will her outburst affect the way she relates to Logan? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW!

On a different note, however, I do wish to address a few concerns about Chase, whom we all met in the last chapter. Several readers have voiced worries that he seemed a little too perfect, and I wish to strongly assure all of you that Chase Lancaster is NOT everything he seems to be. I fashioned him that way for two reasons: one, to have a character who was almost the opposite of Laura in every way (almost her character foil), and two, his apparent flawlessness will serve to emphasize the contrast about what we will learn about him in the future. I mean, think about it: do you REALLY think that a guy like Chase can actually be for real? Trust me, he has at least one skeleton in his closet, and I will confirm that he wasn't _entirely_ truthful about everything he said to Laura (though exactly what I am referring to is left up to conjecture). In fact, I even plan on an entire story arc revolving around this in the not-too-distant future. ^^ So don't worry, okay? I have no intention of creating a "perfect" character in Chase.

Nothing, in point of fact, could be further from the truth…

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	5. Chapter 5

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 5: Dysfunction

I tried desperately to restrain the urge to kill first living thing I came across as anger against Logan seethed in my veins. I really didn't care at this point whether my parting remark had hurt him; I only knew that, right now, I wanted to get as far away from Logan as I possibly could.

I only just restrained the urge to rip Sunspot in half as, in his stupidity, he had unwittingly gotten between me and the stairwell that led to my room. I had no intention of staying in my room, of course; my plan was to sneak out the window and find a nice, quiet, peaceful place to slaughter a few squirrels and rabbits and any other sickeningly cute little furry animals that I happened to come across. My claws _thirsted_ for blood to satisfy my temper, and I gripped the banister so hard that the wood split with a sickening _crack_ as I stared Sunspot down.

"Where ya goin', Laura?" he asked me. "You ok?"

"Get out of my way," I said through gritted teeth. _Do I look okay to you, dumbass?_

Sunspot was apparently a bigger numskull than I had given him credit for, because he didn't take the hint. "You want me to get the Professor?"

I fantasized for a moment about the sound Sunspot's body would make upon hitting the pavement if I heaved him out a nearby window. "Get lost," I told him flatly, "Or I'm going to rip your throat out. With my teeth."

_That_ got his attention, and I took a moment to savor his horrified expression before vanishing upstairs. I drank in the scent of Sunspot's fear like a delicious meal, and I made sure to check both ends of the hallway before locking the door of my room securely shut. I could hear the bolt clicking in place, and once I was satisfied that I would not be disturbed, I shoved my bedroom window open and swung out into the open air.

I didn't fall for very long, though. I sunk my claws into the brick to slow my descent, and I left a quartet of long, deep cuts in the masonry as I slid down the side of the Xavier Institute. The smell of mortar made my nostrils burn as chips of loose stone stung my cheeks. I closed my eyes tightly to prevent them from being injured by the spray, and I could hear the adamantium grating and screeching like an old violin as it rasped against the wall.

The speed of my fall petered out when I was ten feet or so from the ground. Normally a leap like that would leave your average human stunned and winded, but jumps from heights like these came easily to me. I could probably have hit the ground running, if I'd wanted to , but as it was I merely took a moment to steady myself for the leap.

Only then did I realize that I had come to a stop just outside of Xavier's personal office, the same office that I'd been taken to upon first arriving at the Institute. I was only inches away from the large bay window that jutted out from behind Cue-ball's desk, and, even though I was positive that Xavier couldn't see me through the panes of glass, I scooted over a bit just to be safe.

I pressed my ear to the brick as I picked up sounds of conversation within. You might think that eavesdropping on Baldy may have been wrong of me, but I had learned a long time ago not to turn down any free intelligence that came my way. What I heard here might give me a valuable insight as to the Professor's true motivations and reasons for giving Logan permission to bring me here, and with luck I would learn if he was really as big a philanthropist as everyone thought he was.

"-Could have gone better," the Professor was saying.

"I don't think it could have bin any worse," Logan replied, and I felt a chill when I heard his voice. Could he sense that I was listening? Could he still hear me or sense me even through a layer of stone? "I'm tellin' ya, Chuck, this kid's _impossible."_

"Actually, she reminds me of a much younger and angrier version of _you,"_ the Professor replied placidly. "She shares your temper, at least."

"I'm not cut out fer this," Logan sighed, and I detected an unusual note of weariness in his tone. "I ain't no good at raisin' a kid, especially someone like _her._ I don' even know where to start or where t'begin! Hell, I don' know the first thing about kids, an' now I'm saddled with one, not jest as a student, but _full-time!_ I dunno if you've bin payin' attention fer the past coupla years, but I ain't exactly material fer Dad of th'Year!"

"I realize how frustrating this must be for both of you," the Professor said. "But you must remember that Laura is in the middle of an adjustment period. In the space of a few days, she's found a new home, a new school, and, if we keep our fingers crossed, some new friends. It is to be expected that she would be on edge until she settles into life here at the Institute, and it is was probably this emotional and mental strain that boiled over during your training session. Laura didn't mean what she said, Logan, I assure you."

"You weren't there," Logan muttered. "She meant every word of it, Chuck. I could see it in her eyes."

I felt as though someone had driven an invisible knife through the center of my chest, and that icky, nauseating feeling that I'd come to associate with negative experiences boiled up inside of my stomach with a vengeance. My fingers carved furrows into the stone as I clenched my hands into fists, and I felt a tornado of things I'd never felt before threaten to send my mind spinning out of control.

The hurt in Logan's voice was unmistakable and perfectly clear. My remark had clearly devastated him, which, though horrible, came as a surprise to me. I'd never known Logan as someone who cared greatly what others thought of him; the rebellious mutterings of the other students slid off of him like water, and yet _I _was able to hurt his…"feelings?"

I didn't even know Logan's feelings _could_ be hurt in the first place. He was just about the _least _sensitive guy you will ever come across.

What's more, I knew that what Logan said was true. No matter how much I might deny it, both to myself and to him, both of us knew that I _had_ meant what I had said to him back in the Danger Room. I had said with merciless sincerity, and I had looked Logan right in the eye as I'd done it. I hadn't known nor cared what impact those words could have upon him, and in my anger I had mocked everything that Logan had done for me so far.

That was the worst part. Not only had I declared my contempt of Logan, but also the fact that I had _meant every word._

_Logan hadn't deserved that,_ some nasty little voice in my heart whispered. _If not for him you'd still be living waist-deep in snow right now. At least he was_ _making an __effort __to get along with you, which is more than you've done for __him_ _so far._

I felt my chest tighten as that voice, which I assumed to be what was left of my conscience, continued its condemnation. _Why'd you do that, huh? Call him names and put him down all the time, when all he's ever tried to do is __be __there for you? Can you name anyone else who's made that effort? Can you think of even __one__ other person who's ever cared about you, who's ever looked at you as __more__ than a lab experiment?_

The answer, of course, was no.

_Logan cares for you, even if he's reluctant to show it. He may be smelly and he may be an enormous ass at times, but at least he __means __well. He __wants__ to protect you, even if you don't __want __or __need__ his protection. _

I felt a curious dampness growing around me eyes as I comprehended at last the sheer thoughtlessness of my careless words. My vision began to blur, which I at first attributed to the amount of pollen in the air, but then I stiffened in surprise and shock as I felt a droplet of concentrated moisture sliding down the side of my cheek.

Holy shit.

I was _crying._

I…I hadn't even known I was still capable of it. HYDRA had sought to stamp out such "weakness" from me early on, and any tears I'd shed while in their clutches had been rewarded with beatings and perhaps the casual electrocution. I hadn't genuinely _cried_ in so long that I couldn't recall the occasion when I'd done it last, and I found bittersweet the irony that someone like _Logan _could get such an emotional response from me, that he could _get _to me like this. Shame and regret settled on my shoulders like an invisible weight, and I hastily scrubbed my face to get rid of the rebellious tears as I came to a bitter decision.

I knew that, somehow, I had to make this right. It was my own stupid fault, anyway, so logically I should be the one to make it up to Logan. Some cold, analytical part of me that remembered what I had observed about normal people while working for HYDRA recalled that in these situations, it was socially correct to give the offended person something called an "apology." This, I surmised, usually consisted of the phrase "I'm sorry," followed by an admission of fault by the guilty person as to what he'd done wrong.

I kept hoping there was a less obvious solution. Apologizing to someone like Logan might be as dangerous as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye. He might even take my apology as a sign of weakness and get even _angrier,_ for all I knew.

I started back up the way I'd come, all thoughts of venting my rage forgotten. My anger had disappeared with a suddenness that would have been cause for concern if I'd had time to dwell on it, so destroying things to let off steam didn't hold any appeal to me right now.

If anything, I might have already destroyed what I could have had with Logan. That bridge, for all I knew, might have already been burnt.

I vaulted end-over-end back through my bedroom window, and I began running the very instant my feet touched the carpet with a loud, muffled _bump_. I slammed the door behind me as I sped down the hall and descended the winding stair, my heart thundering in my chest as that thing called guilt threatened to consume me from the inside.

I sped past a bewildered Sunspot and turned a corner in the direction of Xavier's office, and even the _air_ itself seemed to impede me as I saw Logan's back heading in the opposite direction. I screeched to a halt and opened my mouth to say something, anything, but as soon as I did, I found myself at a loss for words.

What was I supposed to say to him? What _could _I say to him? Would he even listen to me if I said _anything, _after what I'd done in the Danger Room?

I didn't know.

But I knew that I had to try.

I could see my chance slipping away as Logan began to vanish around the corner, and after taking a minute to summon up my courage-

-I hesitated for just a moment. Why did I need courage to do something like this? It wasn't like I was going into battle or anything, so why…?

Why was I so nervous?

I didn't know, but I _did_ know that it was going to piss me off later.

I swallowed and took a deep breath. _Please, let this work,_ I thought to myself. If I had been an especially religious person, perhaps that would have qualified as a prayer.

"Logan?" I asked finally, my voice cracking like a tree that had been broken in half.

He stopped, but didn't turn to face me. "Whaddaya want?" he grunted.

I almost cringed at how brusque and distant he sounded. There was no doubt that Logan was still smarting from my thoughtless comment earlier. "'Msorry," I said quickly, perhaps _too _quickly.

He gazed at me over his shoulder. "What?"

I cursed myself for a fool. I'd been so eager to get this over with that I'd talked too fast; Logan hadn't understood me, so now I had to do it _again._

_Perfect,_ I thought sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," I said, almost choking on the words themselves as they threatened to stick in my throat. I forced myself to look him in the eye, so I he could see that I meant what I said. He'd better; this was _not _easy for me. "I was…wrong to say what I did in the Danger Room," I continued. "I was wrong to yell at you, and I was wrong not to…"

I couldn't bring myself to finish. _I was wrong not to call you "Father."_

Logan casually sidled up to me, an unusually bemused look on his face as he held out a hand and laid his palm on my forehead. "You got a fever or somethin'?" he asked.

"No!" I pushed his hand away. _Did he even hear what I was saying?_

Logan's face split into a grin. "Good, 'cuz fer a moment there I wasn't sure if you were actually doin' that of your own free will or if you'd been blackmailed into sayin' that stuff."

"Anyone who would attempt to leverage me would only do it once. Just once."

Logan patted me on the head, and I felt somewhat bemused by this display of affection. "Don' lose any sleep over what happened," he told me, shrugging modestly. "As far as I'm concerned, it never occurred in th'first place."

I fought to reel in my jaw. "How can you forgive me so easily?" I asked, bewildered. "I thought you'd be furious with me!"

"Is that what you _want?"_ Logan arched an eyebrow.

I shook my head vigorously.

"Then let what's in th'past stay there," he nodded, moving in a bit closer and raising his beefy arms as if to strike me.

I flinched out of pure reflex, but any fear of Logan that I might have had at that moment proved unwarranted. I let out a little squeak of surprise as drew me into what was probably the most awkward hug in human history.

I could feel his hot breath mussing my hair, and even as Logan's powerful scent of tobacco, whiskey and aftershave stung my nostrils, I found myself enjoying the pleasant sensation this thing called "hugging" provided. I realized that such logic was ridiculous from any other perspective, but nevertheless I felt somewhat…safe…as the awkwardness of the entire situation reached a new high.

I tried to remember the last time I'd felt truly safe, and found that I couldn't. I don't think I'd ever felt safe to begin with, even before I'd washed my hands of HYDRA.

It was, I reflected, a nice feeling.

Logan cleared his throat suddenly and released me from his "hug," and I found myself somewhat disappointed as he did so. His eyes glanced anywhere but at me, and I assumed that he must have been extremely embarrassed. After all, such displays of affection did _not_ come easily to Logan, and I decided to let him have what was left of his tough-guy façade and not comment on the matter.

"So, uh…" I began. "Same time tomorrow? In the Danger Room, I mean."

Logan rubbed the nape of his neck. "Yeah…sure."

He turned and vanished around the corner with more speed than was necessary for traveling indoors and I felt a tidal wave of some warm, gooey feeling wash over me as I watched him go.

A smile (or at least, what _I _would call a smile) passed over my face for just a moment, and I was momentarily startled to find myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be so bad after all…

A/N: D'awwwwwww! Ain't that sweet? XD But what challenges await Laura in the future? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW!

On a different subject, however, I do ask for your patience concerning the next update. My sister will be moving into her new dorm at college over the weekend, and consequently we'll have a lot of packing and stuff to do before we drop her off. Her campus is hours away from my current location, as well, and my parents and I will have to stay with her for a few days until she gets all unpacked. Needless to say, the next few days will be very busy for me, and as a consequence I probably won't be able to update until at least next Monday (I MIGHT be able to have another installment up tomorrow, but I'm afraid I can't make any promises). Please give me your patience and understanding, and know that I will _not_ let it go unrewarded. ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	6. Chapter 6

.Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 6: Thrill of the Chase

I was still standing in the middle of the hallway like a bump on a pickle as Logan made his getaway after pulling me into his beer-and-aftershave-scented quasi-hug. I think he must have been really, really embarrassed, because he seemed to make an effort to keep a low profile after that.

Maybe he thought he had a reputation to uphold or something, because I got the feeling that Logan did NOT want anyone to know what had happened between the two of us. I could only imagine the ridicule he'd get from Sunspot, Bobby and the rest of the younger X-Men if they ever found out that the infamous Logan had actually showed something approaching affection to another human being.

It took a few moments for my brain to reconnect with the rest of my body, and I decided quickly that I did NOT like the confusing maelstrom of emotions that Logan's semi-hug had created. I like staying within my comfort zone: I'm more at home on a mission or on a battlefield rather than in a normal domestic setting. I like knowing exactly what the situation at hand requires and how to fix any potential snags that could impede the successful completion of my objectives.

"Bonding" with Logan, as the Professor had generously put it, was so far out of my realm of familiarity that I couldn't see it with binoculars. That I was even able to talk to him without losing my temper could be counted as an improvement, but until now I had merely dismissed it as a temporary situation. Sooner or later, I had thought, Logan and I would return to the same old mutual hostility that we'd shown to each other before.

But now…The idea may have been absurd, but perhaps Logan was a decent person, deep down.

I snorted and choked back something that I suppose might have qualified as laughter if I'd voiced it out loud. Logan was hard to pin down. Unlike the Professor or Jean, who were such "good guys" that they made the Boy Scouts look like criminals, Logan was all over the place as far as morality was concerned. You could never be sure if it was safe to walk behind him or run like hell, and that factor of unpredictability was what made him so intimidating at times.

He was just…Logan.

I tried to quiet down my brain as it buzzed like a nest of angry hornets. I'd already had more than enough excitement for one day; a quick stop to the kitchen to swipe some food and then I'd try to catch a few hours of sleep.

Maybe if my luck held, which was unlikely, I might even be able to get them.

I didn't.

Sleep never did come easily to me in the first place. Years of running from HYDRA and SHIELD had taught me to sleep with one eye open, and the fact that my mind refused to stop churning like a freaking blender didn't help, either. I finally gave up on trying to rest about an hour or so before everyone else got up, and I was already licking my plate of raw hamburger meat clean when Kitty plopped herself down next to me. What I found irritating was the fact that I was only just starting to become alert, and not five minutes after turning up, Kitty was already fully awake. Hell, I ate half my body weight in protein just to fuel my healing factor, but Kitty was apparently full of some kind of frenetic energy.

I hastily wiped the back of my mouth on my sleeve. I don't think anyone would benefit from knowing that I'd had uncooked burger for breakfast.

"Morning," Kitty told me cheerfully.

I eyed her for a moment. While I was no longer convinced that she or any of the other X-Men meant me harm, I still had a hard time relating to most of them. I do NOT do well in social situations, so I'd tried to keep my distance from everyone except Logan. I hadn't turned up in the recreation room again, either, and the only reason I had spent more than five seconds in the company of Bobby and the others when I first arrived was because there was no way for me to leave without everyone noticing and asking questions. I had implemented the same strategy at school, too, and other than that smiling idiot Chase and Principal Kelly's brat of a daughter it seemed to have worked pretty well.

I just wanted to keep myself to myself. I had learned early on, especially after escaping HYDRA, that it didn't do for me to get noticed a lot. With this in mind, I always tried to be as inconspicuous as possible whenever I could, but apparently Kitty didn't pick up on the subliminal message to leave me the hell alone.

I didn't reply to the greeting that seemed to be customary for "normal" people to exchange at breakfast, instead focusing on wiping up any lingering traces of ground beef from my plate.

"Sleep well?" Kitty asked, trying again. I had to give her points for persistence, at least.

I glared at her. "Do I _look_ well-rested to you?" I grumbled.

"Nope," Kitty shook her head, and I tried to resist the urge to punch her in order to get her to shut up. "You looked wrecked."

"Then why ask, if you can clearly see the answer for yourself?" I snorted.

"Just trying to make conversation," she shrugged, before brightening up again. "Are you gonna talk to Chase again today?"

I flinched and broke my plate in half in the process. This was one train of thought that I had _no _intention of boarding. "Why would I do that?"

"Because he totally likes you!"

I was irritated to no end to find myself utterly clueless as to what the phrase "like" meant in this situation. I knew that the word was used to imply fondness when referring to a person, but the way Kitty said it implied that the word meant something more important in instances like this. "Let's pretend that I know what you're talking about."

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Kitty sighed. "Chase. Has. A. Crush. On. You."

I conjured the mental image of Chase trying to literally crush me like a grape. It wouldn't work if he tried, though, thanks to my adamantium.

Kitty tried to fight back her horror as I continued to stare blankly at her. "Oh, God, _please _tell me you're joking," she said, biting her lip with what looked to be concern.

"I don't joke," I replied flatly.

"What I mean," Kitty elaborated, trying to choose her words carefully, "is that Chase finds you attractive and wants to get to know you better, as more than just friends. Remember when you asked if he found you desirable 'as a mate' yesterday? That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"And you know this, how?" I inquired. "You can't get inside his head like Jean or the Professor, you know."

"Please," Kitty rolled her eyes. "You don't need to be a telepath to figure out when a guy is staring at you like a hungry owl."

"He obviously doesn't know anything about me, or Chase wouldn't be so foolish," I said, unashamed at what I said next. "I am a clone, grown in a vat from stolen DNA to be a killing machine for an international terrorist organization that's bent on taking over the world. What can Chase or anyone else find 'attractive' about that?"

"If he really cares about you, he won't mind."

"Your idealism is nothing short of nauseating."

"So is your pessimistic attitude," Kitty retorted, shoving a fried egg into her mouth. "If you would just try to be a little bit more approachable, I bet you'd see that Chase is all right. He's caring, sweet, polite, and unlike most guys, he cares more about what's in a girl's heart than what's inside her shirt."

"Why would Chase care about what I'm wearing?" I asked, confused. "Or about what's underneath?"

Kitty stared at me for a moment and buried her head in her hands. "Oh, for the love of…You don't know about…?"

"About what?"

"On second thought, I'm not even gonna go there," Kitty shook her head. "We're gonna go ahead and let Wolverine handle _that_ one, and in the meantime we'll just assume that Chase isn't going to try to take advantage of you."

"If he did, then I would kill him," I stated matter-of-factly, before growing annoyed with the feeling that Kitty knew something I didn't. "What is it, exactly, that you are not telling me? What is it that Chase will try to 'take advantage' of?"

Kitty blushed furiously, though I had no idea why. It was just a question, after all. "Um…Ask Logan. Or, better yet, ask Jean. Later. Preferably when Logan's not around."

"Maybe I will," I shot back.

Kitty snorted into her orange juice, and she must have gotten some in her windpipe because she coughed into her fist for a few minutes. "You do that," she said, barely containing her merriment. "But for today, let's start by trying to _talk_ to Chase without making any death threats."

"I don't _want_ to talk to him or anyone else," I shook my head. "I just want to keep a low profile."

"Well, in between having the most popular guy on campus head-over-heels for you and having the principal's daughter out to get you, I think you've pretty much blown that one," Kitty pointed out.

She was right, dammit. "Then what do I do to make them stop?" I said, somewhat dazed as I realized that it'd be only a matter of time before everyone in school recognized me. "Maybe I should tell both of them to go jump off a cliff or something."

"NO!" Kitty raised her voice in panic. "You don't know how good you've got it! Remember, this is _Chase Lancaster _we're talking about, not just some guy! I'd _kill_ for him to look twice at me!"

"Then you can _have_ him," I muttered.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that, Laura! Chase is totally hot, and he's, like, the nicest guy you'll ever meet!"

"By 'hot,' do you mean that he has a fever?"

"Wow. Just…Wow. You really _are_ clueless," Kitty sighed with exasperation. "I meant that he's handsome, good-looking, that kind of thing."

I pictured Chase's face and reflected that it seemed like one of those Greco-Roman statues that museums and art collectors seem to have lying around everywhere. "I don't feel one way or another about him," I said finally, "And I am not interested in having anything to do with him. He's too cheerful, too friendly, too_…nice."_

"That's the point," Kitty nodded. "Opposites attract. He's perfect for you, just trust me on this."

"I make a point of not trusting anyone without iron-clad proof of his or her intentions," I murmured.

"Oh, for Pete's sake, just_ live a little_!" Kitty cried. "You are so uptight and serious all the time, but you don't _need _to be like that anymore! Just lighten up and try to enjoy yourself for once in your life! A golden opportunity just fell right into your lap, and you're just going to sit there and let it pass you by? You may not feel anything for Chase right now, but you'll never be sure until you get to know him! Just try _talking _to him for starters and see what happens, okay? I mean, it's not like you really have anything to lose, and who knows, you might even have a little fun by accident!"

I was taken completely by surprise at the force of Kitty's outburst. It was fortunate that Logan wasn't up yet, I thought, or Kitty may have unwittingly sealed Chase's death warrant then and there.

"If I talk to him, will you stop bugging me about it?" I asked irritably.

Kitty smirked. "That depends on what happens once you do."

I had the sudden urge to bang my head against the table in frustration. I could see by the look in Kitty's eyes that she was NOT going to drop this subject easily.

"Fine," I muttered. "I'll…I'll talk to Chase, okay? Just don't-"

"And you can't tell him to 'jump off a cliff' or say anything mean," Kitty added.

I cursed inwardly. That had actually been what I was planning to do. "So you're adding conditions now?"

"Yup."

"And if I say no?"

"Then I'll tell everyone that you and Logan hugged," Kitty said, with a mischievous grin.

I was utterly aghast, and a curious heat spread across my face as I tried to contain my horror. "How…?"

"I saw the security feed," Kitty explained, waving a compact disc in front of her. "So you'd better talk to Chase, _nicely_, or this baby hits the Internet."

"You're…you're blackmailing me!" I yelled, standing up suddenly and banging my fist down on the table. The wood splintered with a sickening _crack_ as Kitty grinned up at me, unafraid.

"It's for your own good, though," she said, and though she may have tried to seem reassuring, it looked like she was patronizing me more than anything else. "You'll thank me for it later."

"Somehow, I doubt that," I muttered, grabbing my backpack and heading for the door. I entertained a brief daydream of tearing Kitty's head off and booting out the window as I slid sullenly into the minivan that Logan had used the other day, only to find that Logan was not the one driving this morning.

"Wow, don't _you _look cheerful," Scott Summers, alias Cyclops, told me in a wry voice as his red sunglasses glinted in the early-morning light.

"Go to hell," I growled back, shrinking into my seat. I was still burning with anger at the sheer indignation of letting myself fall into a position that would allow Kitty to leverage me, and I muttered every obscenity I knew under my breath as Sunspot and the others piled into the seats on either side of me. No one sat close to me, which was good, because my mood was foul enough that I might have heaved someone out the window at forty miles an hour.

God, I was _not_ going to enjoy this, I just _knew_ it. Somehow, something would go horribly wrong before I even opened my mouth to speak to Chase, and when Kitty found out she'd have a video of me and Logan hugging on fucking Youtube by the time I got back to the Institute.

I clenched my teeth at the helplessness of my position. Nothing makes me angrier than having someone else force me to do something against my will. I'd had way more than enough of that horse crap with HYDRA, but apparently Kitty hadn't taken that into consideration, damn her.

I spent the rest of the ride sulking, and though it may have seemed childish, it made me feel marginally better. One way or another, I vowed to myself, I'd find a way to get my hands on that damn tape before Kitty started going on a power trip.

And don't even get me started on Chase. As far as I was concerned, _he _was the cause of _all_ of this. If he hadn't started being so nice and just left me alone like everybody else, Samantha Kelly wouldn't have declared war on me, Kitty wouldn't be blackmailing me to talk to him, and everything wouldn't have gone to shit.

I fought back the urge to growl as I got out of the car and saw Kelly and her clique shoot me looks of pure malevolence. Either they had nowhere to be at the moment, or they had actually been _waiting_ for me to arrive just so they could try something.

They'd be sorry as hell if they made me lose my temper. Today of all days, I did _not_ feel like taking crap from them or anyone else.

I wondered briefly how on Earth Kitty could put up with this kind of thing day after day. Many of the students here seemed to be violently prejudiced against mutants like me, and either acted with cold indifference or outright malice towards Xavier's students. We were, it seemed, the lowest ranking of the human pack, while people like Kelly seemed to be the alphas who controlled and dominated everything.

School suddenly didn't seem as much fun as I thought it'd be. In fact, now that I thought about it, if there were no other people here then it'd probably be perfect.

I stifled a groan as the bell rang, and I recalled a story I'd once overheard about some guy who got thrown into a den of lions and managed to survive because an angel or something prevented the beasts from eating him.

If I'd known then what was going to happen, I would have gladly jumped into the pit and taken my chances with the lions.

A/N: Hey, all! Well, it was a bit of a stretch, but I FINALLY got the next chapter up. We arrived on campus today and worked well into the afternoon getting my sister moved in; it was especially hard for me, since everyone looked to me for most of the heavy lifting. Have you ever tried to haul a dresser up five flights of stairs in the Mississippi heat? NOT. FUN. XD But in any case, the worst of it is over now, and we'll probably be staying a few more days till Sis gets settled in. I should be able to update either Monday or Tuesday, so it won't be that long before my story picks up again. ^^ I always believe that an author has a duty to his readers; consequently, if my updating schedule changes or if there are delays, I feel that you all have the right to know why as well as a rough estimate of the publication date of the next chapter.

And (you probably saw this coming XD), PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! YOUR OPINION COUNTS!

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	7. Chapter 7

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 7: Feelings

I tried not to appear as if I'd noticed Kelly and her clique of wannabes lurking around Bayville High's front entrance like the Popularity Gestapo. My mind began running on pure instinct; I had been in this situation before countless times during my days on the lam from HYDRA. Kelly, I knew, ranked pretty low on my (REALLY long) list of enemies, but I had learned that it really didn't pay to underestimate people like her. I knew intuitively that what Kelly lacked in raw strength she made up for in cunning, and she had already made it clear that she hated mutants, or, more specifically, _me,_ so I decided the best course of action would be to avoid the ambush she'd set up until I figured out the best way to beat the snot out of her without getting caught.

I turned on my heel and made for the side entrance that only a few other students seemed to use on a regular basis. Kelly, for all her scheming, seemed to be more of a dimwit when she wasn't plotting against somebody else. Hate, I thought, is what drove everything she did, and her mindless prejudice and bigotry was supplemented with a moral conviction that had been drilled into her by her father. The two of them not only hated mutants and anyone else who sided with them, they also believed that they were _justified_ in doing so.

God, she made me want to puke. Even with Madame Hydra and SHIELD, I had never met a more pathetic and despicable sack of human shit. I was starting to _dream _of the day when I could corner her in the gymnasium after class, stuff a dirty sweat sock between her teeth, and work Samantha Kelly over with a goddamn baseball bat.

Okay, fine, maybe I was going a little overboard, but I'd had a really bad morning so far, what with Kitty blackmailing me and all. The thought of beating the crap out of Kelly was just a pleasant thought that I used to distract me from my predicament.

The apple didn't fall far from the tree, I guess.

I shoved the door open and almost broke some kid's nose in the process. He let out a squeak that was surprisingly high-pitched for someone his size, but I didn't even spare him a glance as I went to open the cantankerous thing Kitty had called a "locker."

Supposedly they were for storing books in between classes, but I thought they were just a pain. I got so fed up with my combination lock after a few seconds of turning the knob that I extended my claws and sliced it in two with an audible snarl.

That got me more than a few stunned looks and terrified stares, and if I'd been a little calmer I might have felt _really _uncomfortable as everyone glared at me like I was something nasty on the bottom of their shoes. My self-consciousness, however, was overridden by my anger at Chase, at Samantha Kelly, and especially at Kitty, so I stuffed whatever fear or awkwardness I might have experienced into the back of my head for later. There'd be time, _lots _of time, for kicking myself for my stupidity after school let out.

As it was, I whirled around with my claws still extended. "What are _you_ staring at?" I yelled challengingly.

The other kids suddenly seemed very interested in doing something else, anything else, other than looking at or talking to me, which suited _me _just fine.

I shook my head irritably as I felt them staring at me like a bug in a jar. Didn't they have anything better to do?

"Hey! You!"

I snapped out of the beginnings of despair at having made such a spectacle of myself as I forced my locker shut. I wasn't sure if _I _was the one being hollered at, but one look down the hall sure made me wish I wasn't.

Principal Kelly crooked a finger at me and bellowed, "Yeah, you, you little delinquent! You heard me! I _saw_ what you did there! In my office, _now!"_

I briefly considered running away, but I knew it wouldn't do me much good. I mean, where are you going to run to in a _school?_ There aren't that many places to hide, and I certainly couldn't just cut class and go back to the Institute.

Logan was still there, after all.

So I swallowed the half-dozen acidic comments that lay on the tip of my tongue and followed Principal Bigot back into the Bayville High's main office. I guess the purpose of having a main office is to instill fear and awe of authority into any student who goes in there, but I was actually kinda underwhelmed at how shabby the place was.

The water cooler in the corner didn't look like it had been used or even replaced in years, and the carpet was so worn that little strands were starting to unravel. The receptionists' desk was stacked with mounds of papers that were probably taller than I am, and the receptionist herself didn't even look up as Kelly marched me past her. Maybe her massive beehive hairdo made it almost impossible for her. Seriously, it was like three feet high, and I wouldn't be surprised if there was a family of squirrels or something living in it.

Maybe I was supposed to feel pity because the place was so worn and run-down. I guess you _might_ feel sorry for Kelly if you'd never actually talked to him, but I thought that an idiot like that couldn't be expected to run an administrative position with the finesse a job like that required. The whole place was disorganized, displaced, overworked and understaffed, and I thought that if Kelly didn't have the brains to try cleaning the place up to make it run more smoothly, he deserved every migraine that this mess probably gave him. Such sloppiness, I knew, wouldn't have been tolerated in HYDRA and probably not in SHIELD, either. Nick Fury wasn't the kind of person who looked kindly on incompetence.

The only person I actually _did _feel a little sorry for was the receptionist and her hair.

In contrast, though, Kelly's personal office space was looked more like a Victorian stateroom than anything else. It was like I'd walked through the Bronx and suddenly found myself in Beverly Hills. I looked scornfully on the expensive knickknacks that lined the shelves and the pens that were made of onyx and gold, and I surmised that the reason the main office looked so crappy was because Kelly had spent all that money on himself.

I got the feeling that that was probably illegal, but it wouldn't have helped me much to mention it aloud.

Kelly never took his eyes off of me as he sat down, and I saw his lip curl like he'd gulped down a whole bunch of sour milk and couldn't spit it out.

I knew exactly what I saw in his eyes as he studied me. It was loathing, pure, undiluted loathing.

The feeling was mutual.

Kelly held my stare a moment longer as he steepled his fingers over his desk. "You know why you're here, don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

I briefly wondered if Kelly was deluding himself into thinking that he actually sounded intimidating. I thought, personally, that he sounded more like someone who got rejected for a role in _CSI._

"My guess would be that you saw me slice through my locker and decided to make an example of me," I replied calmly. "You enjoy having power and wielding it, and given your violently anti-mutant opinions and suspected connections with the political group 'Friends of Humanity,' you find the opportunity to do things like this enjoyable."

Kelly looked like he was going to blow a gasket, and he stood up so fast that he knocked his chair over. "Don't you _dare _use that tone of voice with _me!_ I am the head of this school and you will _show me some respect, do you hear me! I do __not__ tolerate insubordination and back-talk from any of my students, and I certainly won't take any from the likes of you!"_

"But you're right," he said, calming somewhat. "I _don't_ like mutants, Laura. In fact, if it were up to _me,_ I'd lock each and every one of your noxious kind away. The only reason I allow you and your fellow freaks to attend _my_ school is because my boss, the superintendent, has ordered me to."

"Now, I'm sure you are well aware that special…_conditions_ have been made concerning your powers," he spat that last word as though it were rancid, "and one of these is that any use of mutant-like ability on campus is forbidden. Violation of this rule may result in immediate expulsion."

I didn't blink, even if my heart did begin thundering in my chest. I wasn't scared of being expelled, but I _was _kinda concerned about how Logan would react to the news.

"However, since I'm feeling generous-"

I barely refrained from snorting. I doubted that Principal Kelly had ever been generous. The only reason he was letting me off with any semblance of mercy was probably because he wanted to avoid causing a political firestorm if he had me booted out of school.

"-I will commute your punishment to three weeks' worth of after-school detention, to be served here, in my office, from three to five in the afternoon."

If Kelly was expecting for me to cower and beg for mercy, he was gonna be disappointed. Detention was nothing compared to what I'd endured with HYDRA. I stared back at him coolly, unafraid, and I guess that kinda got to him because he pointed toward the door.

"Now get out of my office and get out of my sight, you genetic circus act," he snarled.

I shrugged as I complied. Trust me, I'd been called far, _far _worse.

Of course, after the little detour in Kelly's office, I had completely missed homeroom and now I was late for first period. I almost thought that the jackass had planned it that way, and now that I'd met him in person, I wouldn't put it past him.

I tried not to be conspicuous as I entered the classroom and promptly failed as everyone else turned to stare at me. The memory of my little outburst in the hall came rushing back now that my anger had simmered down a bit, and I felt almost dizzy as more than thirty pairs of eyes began staring at me like I had some kind of noxious disease.

Of course, to these people, I did. I had learned quickly that being a mutant was a permanent black mark on a person's record, and since I'd already been hanging out with Kitty and the other X-Men, most of them had probably already guessed which crowd I belonged to. Even if I hadn't been a mutant, knowing Xavier and the others would have been so looked down upon that I probably would have been ostracized just for _talking _to them.

Apparently, I thought with a barely audible growl, that rule didn't apply to Chase fucking Lancaster. He had talked to me more than twice already and nobody seemed to care.

I tried not to let on how nervous I was feeling as I took my seat. I _hated_ the anxious, nauseating feeling this whole situation gave me; there are few things I hate more than being unsure of myself, that weak, frightened feeling that makes me feel as vulnerable as a newborn kitten rather than a powerful mutant.

God, I _hate, hate, __hate _that feeling. I can't _stand_ it. I _hate_ feeling weak, I _hate_ feeling vulnerable and tender and…and…

I suddenly realized that the desk was threatening to break in two as I gripped it on either side. My knuckles were starting to turn white as the fake wood came closer to being ripped to pieces.

I took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly pried my fingers loose. I had already made a fool of myself once today, and breaking an entire desk would only raise more uncomfortable questions. I didn't even want to _think_ about what would happen if the truth about my origins, my true identity, became common knowledge.

"Rough morning?" Someone behind me asked.

I stiffened. I _knew _who that voice belonged to. "You've no idea," I muttered out of the corner of my mouth.

"No, I guess I don't," Chase shrugged, that big stupid grin plastered on his face. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Why the hell would I tell you anything?" I snapped, before mumbling, "It's not like you'd believe me."

Chase arched an eyebrow. "Oh, you and I have more in common than you think."

"I doubt that."

"Look, will you at least let me know if I can help?" Chase asked.

"Why would I do that?"

He suddenly became very interested in the wall. "I…uh…I just…I don't like to see you unhappy, that's all," he said finally, his tone rushed. "And I know how much being the new kid can suck."

"So it's true," I said flatly, glaring at him.

"What is?"

"I was told by one of my…" I almost used the word _friend_ to describe Kitty, but given that she was blackmailing me I wasn't feeling too charitable at the moment. "…By someone I know that you have something called a 'crush' on me. Is that correct?"

He turned scarlet. "Uh…"

"I was also told that this 'crush' involves a certain amount of personal attraction that goes 'deeper' physical compatibility. Was I misinformed?"

Chase turned so red I probably could have toasted marshmallows on his cheeks. "Who…Who told you that?"

"Someone at the Institute," I said. "You either already know or you've figured out that I'm living there, so don't try acting surprised. It's not like there's a lot of schools for mutants in this town."

Chase studied his shoes, as if hoping he could find salvation in their laces. In retrospect, perhaps I was a little bit too blunt when I asked about how he felt about me; I guess he wasn't used to someone just coming out and demanding an answer. I certainly hadn't seen anyone _else_ being so direct, so I probably wasn't adhering to the social norm that applied to things like this. Chase seemed utterly stunned that I'd jumped the gun and cut right to the point, and normally I would have drawn some measure of satisfaction at how unsure he now seemed.

But I didn't. I was startled to find that I actually felt a little sorry for him. Chase obviously hadn't been expecting any of this, and I found myself feeling bad-_guilty?-_that I'd unknowingly caused him so much discomfort.

It was too late to turn back now, though.

"Well?" I asked. "Answer my question, Chase."

Chase took a deep breath, and whatever might have remained of his air of self-confidence and smoothness went crashing to the floor. He looked more like a kid who'd been caught stealing candy, sheepish and awkward, rather than a football star.

He tried to talk several times and succeeded only in making a sound that was something between a groan and a whine. I was about to just give up when he cleared his throat loudly and muttered, just loud enough so that only I could hear, "Yes."

"What?" I croaked. I had _not_ been expecting this. I mean, yeah, I'd _asked_, but only because Kitty had made me. I didn't actually think she could have been _right! _

"I like you," Chase muttered. "I did from the moment you walked into homeroom yesterday. I like how you're tough and fierce and independent and how you always see the world in your own way. You don't let anyone try to walk over you or tell you what to do. You're confident and strong and willful…and I admire that about you. And I also think you're…pretty."

I stared, flabbergasted. I had to give Chase credit; I didn't think he'd actually had the balls to come out and admit it even if he _did_ feel anything for me. "Pretty?" I almost cringed as my voice cracked. I had never thought of myself as actually being attractive until very recently. Until coming to Xavier's, I had not had the need or the time for personal fripperies like that.

"Yeah," Chase nodded, and I felt a heat rising in my cheeks to match his own. God, what was _wrong _with me?

"And how can you be so sure that you know these things?" I asked finally. "How can you 'like' someone you hardly know anything about? You don't _know_ me, Chase."

"You're right," he said, taking another deep breath, and I noticed that he was trembling slightly as he looked me in the eye again. "But I'd like to."

Well, I had no _idea_ what to say to _that._ Was Chase asking me to "go out" with him, like Kitty had said? Or was he implying something else?

I had no answers, of course. Someone should write a handbook or something for stuff like this.

I swallowed nervously, feeling like a total idiot as I tried to get my stupid brain back online. This was one road I had never considered going down, and for the most part, I stuck to this philosophy. It would be better, I knew, for Chase and I to keep our distance, especially if HYDRA came after me in Bayville. It was likely that they'd somehow use Chase to get to me, and even if they didn't, I had learned enough about Bayville High's social ladder to know that the thought of a mutant "going out" with a sports star and A-list student like Chase would cause an uproar among the other students. He and I would _both _suffer backlash from everyone who disapproved, especially from Samantha Kelly. _Talking_ to me, in his case, may not have been a crime, but "going out" with me would probably cause Chase to ostracized by everyone around him. Popularity could only buy you so much slack, after all, and I had a feeling that Chase's wouldn't last very long if he was seen holding hands with me like all the other couples in school seemed to do.

And even if I-_we-_managed to overcome all of _that,_ there was still the open question of how _Logan _would react to Chase. I had no idea what he might do or what I could expect if he found out Chase and I were "going out," and there was a very real possibility that Chase could get hurt if Logan acted rashly.

That thought sent chills down my spine. Chase may have been a goody-goody, but I didn't want to see him get cut to _pieces!_

I knew that it would be much, much, better for me to just tell him to go to Hell, to let him hate me rather than try to get close to me, and yet…

I gritted my teeth. Somehow, deep down, and even though I would never admit it to another living person, that rebellious part of me _wanted_ to see what would happen if I starting "going out" with him. Chase had been one of the only people other than Xavier's students to reach out to me the other day, and even when I'd been crabby and cross he'd never held it against me. He was seemingly immune to the anti-mutant fervor that everyone else seemed to feel, and he _seemed_…nice. Like, really, really nice. And from the steady tattoo of his heartbeat, I _knew_ he wasn't lying about everything he'd said.

Chase was serious. He _wanted_ to get to know me. He thought I actually _was…pretty._

I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or terrified, to be perfectly honest.

And I started feeling guilty, because I _didn't_ feel that way about _him._ I didn't regard Chase as anything special or remarkable. He was just another human, another face in the crowd.

Kitty's words at the breakfast table earlier flashed through my head. _"You'll never be sure until you get to know him!"_

But why take that chance?

"_Just live a little!"_

It was too risky.

"_It's not like you have anything to lose!"_

I hesitated. Was it possible for me to feel for Chase like that? Was I even _capable _of it?

What would it be like, to be…with him?

This decision bore thinking on. _Lots_ of thinking. No matter how much I would hate myself for making him squirm, I couldn't give Chase an answer right now. It was too great a choice for spontaneity.

"Let me…let me think about it," I said slowly. "I've…I've never done…anything like that before."

Chase nodded, and his eyes radiated understanding. He didn't blame me for being cautious, and I was enormously grateful for it. "It's all right," he said, a small smile on his lips. "Take your time."

_I intend to,_ I replied silently.

A/N: I'm back! XD I said I'd have the next chapter up Monday or Tuesday, and Quintillus Numerion Inque always keeps his word! ^^ Wonder what Laura's choice will be? Will she and Chase end up together? And what plot does Samantha Kelly have cooking up? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have any ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! ^^

One last thing, though. Those of you who read the author's note in Chapter 1 will know that my classes will resume next week, so over the weekend I will be traveling back to the university I attend in order to move in to _my_ dorm now that we're done with my sister's. XD Thankfully, that's a few days away, but needless to say finding time to update may be a little bit difficult for me for a few days. Please, I beg of you, give me your understanding and patience during this busy time; I will try to have at least a few more chapters up this week, but after Friday I'm afraid I can't make any promises.

I assure you, your patience will _not_ go unrewarded…*Smiles mysteriously*

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	8. Chapter 8

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 8: The Choice

I wrinkled my nose as the school bus opened its doors with a sharp, pneumatic hiss, and the smell of gasoline stung my nostrils as the gravel driveway of the Xavier Institute crunched under my boots like potato chips.

I had a ton of homework to do, but that was just about at the bottom of my priorities list at the moment. I narrowed my eyes thoughtfully as I swung the front door open and discarded my backpack on the floor, and, since I wasn't in any mood to talk to anyone, I headed upstairs to my room where I could mull things over quietly.

My head was spinning so much that I thought I'd lose my footing. I could think of nothing and no one other than Chase Lancaster and what had transpired between the two of us earlier. I gripped the banister as I thundered up the staircase, my heart thudding like an enormous drum while my skin became soaked with a sheen of nervous sweat.

What Chase had said to me….I hadn't seen it coming. I hadn't planned on it, hadn't foreseen it, hadn't even _considered_ the possibility that someone like him could find me as desirable as he said he did. I starting to get so worked up that my vision began to swim, as though I were underwater, and I staggered up the last flight of steps almost as if I were as intoxicated as Logan kept trying to be.

I locked the door behind me as I entered my room, _my_ room, and the sheets sank underneath me as I sat wearily on top of it. I held my head in my hands, trying to find something, anything that would put my racing mind at ease and knowing that nothing but the choice I had been given would satisfy it.

It was almost scary how…_freeing_ the prospect was. It was up entirely to _me._ I could _choose_ whether or not to try getting closer to him, to make the decision for myself without it being made for me.

HYDRA had always decided everything, I thought. They had had absolute authority over every aspect of my life, controlling and dominating everything I said and did and _thought_ about doing.

But now _I _could decide, and it felt scary because the experience was so new to me, as well as thrilling because I'd never been able to do it before.

I drew in a deep, shuddering sigh as I tried to look at my current situation from every possible angle. The wheels in my head began churning as I tried to consider every possible factor that could affect both myself and Chase, and I felt a familiar tingling settle over me as I blocked out whatever background noise might distract or hinder my reasoning.

Chase. That was the first thing that popped into my head, and I could see his handsome face as clearly as though it were right in front of me. Chase was at the center of all of this, for better or for worse. He was the only person outside the Institute who had treated me like an intelligent human being when I came to school that first day. He looked at me without the disgust and revulsion that everyone else did, and I dared to imagine, just for a second, what "going out" with him might feel like.

I could hear his voice in my head as perfectly as though he were sitting right beside me, I could _see _his eyes, those eyes that had looked on me not with fear and hate but with admiration and…something else, something I could not identify.

"_I like you. I liked you from the moment you walked into homeroom."_

Had he really? I felt that curious heat rising on my cheeks again as I remembered how…_sincere_ he'd seemed when he'd said it. Either Chase was a very good liar, which was unlikely, or he had _meant_ it when he said he found me so appealing.

There was nothing to find, some nasty part of me hissed. I was an assassin. I had _killed_ people during my days with HYDRA, often in cold blood as they'd begged for their lives. I had slaughtered and slain more men and women than I could keep count of, I had dipped my hands in innocent blood, and I would _never_ be free of the guilt I felt.

Chase had no idea who he was talking about. He didn't know a damn thing about me, didn't know the truth about who I was or where I'd come from, and if he did he'd probably drop me like a hot potato. Would he still find me "pretty" when the truth about me came to the surface? Would he still think so highly of me when the shit hit the fan?

Probably not. Chase may have been nice, but he was still human. I knew _I _wouldn't want anything to do with me if I'd been in _his_ position. What would be the point in trying to get closer to Chase f the knowledge of who I really was would disgust and horrify him? I would be setting myself up for sorrow.

"_If he really likes you, he won't care."_

I let out a growl as the memory of Kitty's speech over breakfast buzzed in my brain. The thought was so ridiculous I hardly dared consider it. Perhaps Kitty had actually believed what she'd said, but I knew better. This was the real world, and Chase, no matter how nice he seemed, still had his flaws. It was so idealistic to think that he'd accept me for who I really was that I almost gagged.

And yet….

The odds were stacked against anything like this happening, but I dared to hope for just a moment that Kitty _could_ be right about Chase, no matter how unlikely it seemed. He had, I thought, already shown that he was open-minded about me being a mutant. That worked in Chase's favor; he'd _proved_ that he was one of the few who resisted the bigotry that people like the Kellys ate up with a spoon.

I clenched my fist. I _wanted_ to believe that Chase might be open-minded about the truth if I ever worked up the courage to tell him, _wanted _to think that he might like me for _me._ The Laura he'd seen in school was a façade, a shadow of who I'd been and who I was starting to become.

And even _I _wasn't sure who that person was.

I felt my skin break out in goosebumps as my face grew redder. Identity crisis aside, I was both angered and frightened to find myself imagining what it _would _be like to "go out" with Chase. To feel about him the way he seemed to feel about me.

I didn't dare ponder the "L-word," though. I had already had enough scarily unfamiliar situations for one day, and after my experiences with HYDRA, I knew that falling in you-know-what could be an _extremely_ dangerous thing for me to do. I hadn't even considered doing it, of course, but that didn't change the fact that being with Chase might put him in danger. HYDRA or any other of my enemies could and would target him as a direct result of his affiliation with me.

I didn't want to see him get hurt, and I feared that getting hurt was the only possible outcome if he tried to "go out" with me.

Or was it?

Wasn't the prospect of being "normal" the reason I came to Xavier's in the first place? Hadn't I come to the States for the opportunity to finally start living like "normal" people did? And, since that was the case, it seemed to me that "going out" with members of the opposite sex was something that "normal" people often did. It seemed to me, that if I were to attempt being "normal," then agreeing to Chase's request was the logical thing to do.

And, of course, there was my own damn curiosity. The prospect of having feelings for someone, anyone, was drawing me in like a moth to a flame.

I felt a shiver pass down my spine as the sheer magnitude of possibilities danced before my eyes. Chase had offered himself to me in a personal way that he'd never done for anyone else, and what he was trying to give me was terrifying because it was so unfamiliar. I had never been in a situation like this before and had never considered that one day I _could_ be in this mess, and so I'd never made an attempt to familiarize myself with human courtship protocols.

I had already concluded that Chase himself would pay a price for being with me. His all-star friends would leave him, his classmates would desert him, and, as popular as he once was, he'd find himself the target of contempt and derision. I knew that it would be a long way to fall for someone so high up on the social ladder.

It was likely that Chase had already considered this, I realized. He may have been nice, but he didn't seem _stupid._ The guy was probably aware of what he'd be giving up before I had even thought of it. Chase had nothing to gain and everything to lose by trying to "go out" with me.

_And yet,_ that nasty little doubting voice hissed, _he still_ _chose__ to try to be with you._

I felt a little squeamish. I couldn't deny what I had already seen with my own two eyes. No matter lowly I might think of myself, _Chase_ thought that "dating" me was worth such a heavy cost.

How could he think that highly of me, when even some of _Xavier's _students still regarded me with suspicion?

Newfound respect for Chase Lancaster made my heart beat faster. He may have been sanctimonious, but he _did_ have courage, and that was one of the few qualities I respected.

My hand clenched the bedspread. The more I thought about it, the more I discovered that the price of going out with Chase meant consecutively less and less to me. Deep downI _did_ want to do it, just to see what "going out" with someone would be like, to have the chance, no matter how small, to feel something that I'd never experienced before. I was actually _envious_ of what Chase was able to feel; after all, feelings had never been very important to me before, and over the years I'd tried not to feel anything for anyone, even for Logan.

And a fat lot of good _that_ did me. It was because that small, remaining amount of affection for Logan that I had convinced myself to come to Xavier's in the first place.

It wasn't as if I was risking anything that I hadn't put on the line already. Samantha Kelly would hate me whether I went out with Chase or not, the Principal would despise me no matter what decision I came to. The only one who lost if I rejected his advances would be Chase Lancaster.

I felt my chest tighten as I pictured his disappointment and sadness. _Give him a chance, _that naggling little voice said. _For once in your life, grow a pair, put aside the facts and just do what __feels__ right. You __know__ you desire it, deep down, so don't try to fool yourself into believing otherwise. Are you so weak and pathetic that you'd let this chance go just because you're afraid of what others will think? You've never cared about the opinions of others before, so why start now?_

I stood up abruptly, clenching my fists as my resolve hardened from that last thought. That was right, dammit! Why the hell should I let the scorn of others determine what I did or didn't do? What could they possibly do to intimidate me? I had endured things from HYDRA that would have killed anyone else; did those jerks really think that they could cow me into backing off? I didn't give a damn if the entire_ town_ started ragging on me, and I silently _dared_ Samantha Kelly to do her worst if she had a problem with the choice I'd finally made. For the first time in my life, I had listened to my heart instead of my brain, and I found myself experiencing a kind of nervous thrill as adrenaline began to course through my body.

There was no going back now. My mind was made up, for better or for worse.

And _logic,_ I thought fiercely,could go screw itself.

A/N: I know it's a shorter chapter than usual, but I needed to crank it out before things get REALLY interesting! Don't expect any updates until the weekend, though, 'cause I leave for the University tomorrow and the next few days will probably be spent unpacking and getting all situated in my dorm. I'll try my damnedest to have the next installment up either Saturday or Sunday, so the wait shouldn't be _too_ bad. I thank you all once more for your patience and understanding; it means the world to me. I assure you, I have every intention of seeing this story through to completion, and it won't be long before I can start updating more regularly. ^_^

And, as always, PLEASE REVIEW! If YOU have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	9. Chapter 9

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 9: The Path Chosen

I avoided everyone I could for the rest of the afternoon, mostly because I knew that Kitty would start interrogating me if I ran across her. I didn't want to answer a whole LOT of uncomfortable questions, so I remained in my room with J.R.R Tolkien for company until Logan barged in to tell me that supper was on the table.

I nearly jumped out of my skin as he flung the door open, and my claws shot out from behind my knuckles by pure instinct as my book went skidding across the floor.

"A bit high strung, aren't ya?" Logan snorted.

"Force of habit," I replied caustically. "What do you want?"

"Dinner's ready," Logan grunted. "If yer not there in five minutes, I'm eatin' yer share, Small Fry."

"Eat my share and I'll make you eat your arm," I warned him.

For a second, I swear he actually smiled. "That's a new one," Logan said drily. "Creative, too. Now c'mon, before th'food gits cold."

I reluctantly slid off of my bed and felt the carpet sink under my feet. Without even meaning to, I fell in step beside him.

"How's school?" Logan said, breaking the silence when we were halfway down the hall.

"Why do you care?" I asked warily. "It doesn't concern you one way or the other."

"The hell it doesn't," Logan growled. "I brought you t'the Institute, Laura, an' that makes takin' care o' you _my_ responsibility."

Coming from anyone else, that would have sounded touching, but considering this was Logan talking his words seemed just as coarse and grumpy as ever. I wondered if his face would crack if he ever did anything else other than scowling.

"School is…challenging," I said, taking a moment to search for the right word.

"Yeah? How so? Are yer classes tough?"

My footsteps faltered for a moment. Geez, Logan actually _was_ taking his crash-course in parenting somewhat seriously. "No," I shook my head. "The academics are simple enough, though the amount of 'homework' is kinda irritating. The greatest problem, to me, is the complex social hierarchy that everyone else seems to adhere to."

"Go on," Logan nodded.

"Most of the normal humans there seem to harbor virulently anti-mutant prejudices," I added, frowning as I did so. "This makes attending class difficult, especially when those whom the students look to for leadership try to assert their dominance over us."

"In other words, bullies," Logan snorted.

"I am not afraid of _them_," I snarled, just in case the thought may have crossed his mind. "Compared to HYDRA, those people are more of a minor nuisance than anything else."

"So I take it ya didn't make any new human friends?" Logan asked with his characteristic sarcasm.

I paled for a second, and prayed he didn't notice. I still hadn't told Logan about Chase, after all, and I had no intention of doing so until I knew what his reaction would be. "There _is_ one," I said slowly. "He's been…nice to me, so far."

"He'd damn well better be," Logan replied fiercely. "Or I might have t'pay him a little visit. What's his name?"

I made a mental note not to have Chase come within a mile of the Institute if I could help it. "Chase Lancaster," I said warily, cautious of giving away too much at once.

"Th'same Chase that Kitty's always goin' on about?"

I tried not to swallow nervously. "Yeah."

Logan narrowed his eyes. "He ain't hittin' on ya, is he?"

"No one aside from you has ever hit me and lived more than five seconds afterward."

Logan sighed. "That ain't what I meant, squirt."

_I know_, I thought, before subtly changing the subject.

"So…what's Beast fixing for dinner?"

Logan gave me a fierce grin. "Beast ain't fixin' dinner t'night, Small Fry. Gambit is."

"The Cajun guy?" I asked.

Logan nodded. 'Hope ya like spicy food, kid, 'cuz Remy doesn't go easy on the Cayenne pepper."

I hate to admit it, but he was right. I could almost feel the fiery taste of the thick stew that was being served. Just the smell of it was like sticking your nose in a jar of mustard and inhaling, and since my sense of smell is sharper than that of most people, I had to avert my head as a grinning Gambit ladled his concoction into an empty bowl and shoved it into my hands.

"Enjoy, _cherie_," he grinned. "This is just the stuff t'put a twinkle in your eye."

I doubted that the fiery dish was more likely to make my eyes start watering, but I had learned that the rules of "etiquette" frowned on me voicing my opinion of Remy's cooking aloud. I tried not to breathe too deeply as I found a seat away from Xavier and the other X-Men; I didn't feel comfortable enough around them to sit at the long table they shared, since I still had a lot to learn about the niceties you adhered to in a setting like that. So I just nodded at Gambit and took a seat at the smaller, round table by the kitchen window. I wouldn't be bothered there.

I guess I'll come right out and admit that there was another reason I wanted to eat alone. I was still angry at Kitty for blackmailing me. That was actually an understatement: I felt madder than the red-bearded, trigger-happy cartoon freak called "Yosemite Sam" that Bobby had been laughing at on the television when I'd first arrived home from school.

Someone slid into the chair sitting opposite me, and I fought not to give Kitty an icy glare as she grinned that stupid smile back at me.

GodDAMMIT, I wanted to punch her in the face. I wanted to hit her so hard that she'd end up swallowing her teeth.

"So, like, how'd it go?" she asked. "You weren't in homeroom this morning."

"I was delayed," my tone was flat. "Principal Kelly decided that he could get his kicks by trying to intimidate me. He failed."

"He didn't expel you, did he?" Kitty blew steam off her spoonful of gumbo. "Kelly's always looking for an excuse to get rid of us."

"No. He gave me something called 'detention' and threw me out of his office," I snorted, laughing in spite of myself at the memory of how pathetic Kelly's punishmen had seemed compared to the hell that HYDRA had put me through.

"And Chase?" Kitty was practically squirming in her seat with eagerness. "How'd it go with him?"

"None of your damn business," I snapped.

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yes.

"What'd he say? What did _you_ say?"

"Go to hell. You wanted me to talk to him, and I did," I growled. "Now give me the damn tape, _now_, or I swear I'll cut you up into so many pieces they won't be able to identify your body."

"All right, chill," Kitty held her hands up and fished a compact disc out of her pocket. "Here it is, okay?"

I snatched the CD, snapped it in two, and slid it back across the table. "You'd better not have made copies," I warned.

"I didn't, I promise," Kitty shook her head vigorously, and I knew she wasn't lying because her heartbeat didn't fluctuate. "Now what happened with Chase? Spill it!" she said, grinning from ear to ear.

I threw down my eating utensil in exasperation as I realized that Kitty would never leave me alone until I told her what had occurred between Chase and myself. I could see it in her eyes. "Calm down and lower your voice," I hissed, flicking my eyes in the direction of Logan, who sat at the other table with his back to me. "I…I don't want Logan to know, not yet."

"Know what?" Kitty's eyes grew as big as dinner plates.

I took a deep breath and gave her the Cliff's Notes version of what transpired between Chase and I.

Kitty let out a strangled grunt as she fought to smother her laughter as I got to the part where I had bluntly asked Chase how he felt about me. "Geez, poor guy," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'll bet he didn't see THAT one coming!"

"I was supposed to find out if he had the 'crush' on me, right?" I said, confused as to what was so funny. "Asking him directly seemed the best way to find out. He DID seem surprised, though," I added, somewhat hesitantly.

"I know I would be," Kitty nodded. "I'd probably be really uncomfortable, too."

I thought, with a twinge of something that could have been guilt, that that was _exactly_ how Chase had seemed to react. I was momentarily lost for words, but then Kitty leaned forward and asked, "So what happened then?"

"He stuttered and mumbled a lot for a few minutes," I shrugged. "I started getting impatient, so I asked him again in the form of a yes-or-no question. He hesitated a few seconds longer, but then he finally found his voice and said yes."

Kitty looked like she would explode like an over-inflated balloon. "Told you so," she grinned smugly. "Gotta give him props for having the guts to come out and say it, though, especially in a situation like that. What are you going to do now?"

I gritted my teeth. I had no intention of telling Kitty that her forcefulness at breakfast that morning had influenced my decision. "I considered 'going out' with Chase from every angle I could think of," I admitted. "I factored in the potential risks against the potential benefits, and came to the conclusion that trying to 'date' him would NOT be a good idea. Chase would be held in contempt by those around him for choosing me, and I would be hated by more than Samantha Kelly and her groupies for what would be seen as rising above my social station."

"But you're still going to do it, aren't you?" Kitty grinned.

"Yes."

Kitty punched me lightly on the arm. "Atta girl! Way to go, Laura!"

I snatched her by the wrist and squeezed so hard that the veins there became visible, and with my other hand I unsheathed my claws and pressed the metal to the tender flesh. All it would take would be the slightest application of pressure to send Kitty Pryde's body bleeding out onto the tile floor at my feet.

"Oh, and by the way," I said, my tone deathly quiet, "Don't _ever_ try to blackmail me again."

"R-Right," Kitty nodded furiously. "Got it."

I released her quickly, my anger at the other girl vanishing rapidly now that my point had been explicitly made. "I'm glad we understand each other," I said, getting up to take my bowl to the sink. I didn't want to keep talking about Chase anymore, especially with the annoying exuberant Kitty; the thought of him made me…_nervous._

I felt like punching myself. No one other than Logan had _ever_ made me feel anything approaching anxiety. How could Chase, who looked about as dangerous as a butter knife, make my stomach flutter like that?

I am almost ashamed to admit that my hands began to shake slightly as they gripped the banister when I headed back upstairs. My entire body, for all its indestructibility, began to shiver with a frightening combination of sheer terror and nervous excitement. Kitty's words, though she would never know it, had had more of an effect on me than I would ever admit. I was almost dizzy with the torrent of uncomfortably foreign and strange feelings that began whirling inside my head along with a storm of frenzied, manic thoughts that flew so thick and fast that I was barely able to make sense of them. I was terrified of what I would tell Chase tomorrow, scared of the consequences that I knew my decision would bring upon both of us, nervous as to when and even if I should tell Logan about any of it, and filled with a lack of confidence that left an empty, grapefruit-sized hole in my chest.

Tomorrow, I knew, I would come to that door that I guess almost everyone faces at some point in life, a door which, once pulled wide, can never be shut or closed again no matter how much you might want to forget what might lay behind it.

And when the time came at school the next morning, I promised myself stubbornly, I would look Chase Lancaster right in the eye and yank that door open.

A/N: I know what you're all thinking: I'm a horrible person for leaving you hanging like that, aren't I?

Yes, yes, I am. *Insert crash of lightning* BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I just couldn't RESIST the chance to build up some suspense, and I always like to leave my readers wanting more. XD Don't worry, Chase and Laura WILL have a chance to chat, and you'll get to see Logan's reaction to their socially awkward and somewhat dichotomous relationship very, very soon. And don't worry about my updating schedule, either; I finished moving into my dorm today, so hopefully I can start writing a bit more regularly now. Thank you all once again for your patience and understanding. :D Coming up in the next chapter: the moment you've all been waiting for!

And, finally, PLEASE REVIEW! If YOU have any suggestions or ideas, LET ME KNOW! ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	10. Chapter 10

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 10: The Moment You've All Been Waiting For

It rained that morning when Logan pulled away from the bus porch amidst the screeching of tires and the reek of burning rubber, and I thought for a moment that the car was going to start hydroplaning as he sent a fan of water spraying onto the asphalt. I ran the few short steps to the door, not really caring whether I got soaked through or not; getting wet ranked pretty low on my list of problems at the moment, and in any case I had been caught out in the snow and sleet enough times to become inured to the icy water that poured on me in sheets of driving, stinging droplets. The wind shrieked like some kind of injured animal as the trees on the grass threatened to snap in half, and, after checking to make sure no one was around to see, I shut the door behind me and shook myself off like I had seen the wolves and feral dogs do. Water cascaded down the floor and onto the nearby wall, and I felt it sliding down my hair as I pulled strands of it out of my hair and smoothed it behind my ears. I arched my back as I yawned cavernously; Logan, apparently, wasn't at his cognitive best in the morning, and he'd dumped me at school a full ten minutes before the bell was scheduled to go off.

I felt my muscles pulling taut as I stretched, and my tongue curled against the back of my teeth before I finally closed my mouth with a satisfied grunt. The cumbersome backpack on my shoulders shifted slightly as my heavy combat boots _clomped_ on the hallway floor.

I turned to find Chase Lancaster staring at me. Like, _really_ staring, as if I were an object of fascination. I noticed his pupils begin to dilate as well as his eyes roved over me, and I felt a not-entirely-uncomfortable shiver of electricity crawl over my skin.

"What?" I asked, frowning at him.

He stood rooted to the spot. "You're just…so beautiful," he breathed finally, taking a step closer.

I felt as though my cheeks were on fire, and my brain began to sputter like Logan's motorcycle. "Uh…thanks," I said finally, glancing away from him.

"So…" Chase cleared his throat awkwardly. "Have you, uh…decided? About what I-_we _-talked about yesterday?"

I felt the blood chill in my veins, and my mouth suddenly ran dry. _Just come out and say it, idiot!_ I thought scornfully to myself. _Don't just stand there gaping like a fish!_

The silence stretched for eternity as I struggled to find my voice, and when I finally _did_ speak, I was humiliated to hear my words crack in mid-sentence. "Yes. I have."

The hope in his eyes made my chest twist. No matter how many misgivings I may have had about what I was about to do, Chase _wanted_ it so badly that I could see the longing pouring off of him.

He didn't speak. I guess Chase realized that I was even more nervous than he was, so he just waited patiently for me to start talking again. I had to hand it to him: he certainly did have patience.

I took a deep breath. "You do realize," I began slowly, "that there are going to be a _lot_ of people who are going to despise you for doing this. The other students will abhor _you_ for having affections for a mutant, and they will shun _me_ for overstepping what could be considered my social boundaries."

Chase nodded grimly. "I know."

"You will probably forfeit your popularity and any influence you may have enjoyed with your peers."

"I know."

"And you will probably lose many of those whom you consider to have been your friends in the past. When word spreads of what you-_we-_are doing, and it will, it is likely that they will turn away from you. Those who were your allies may become the most implacable of foes."

He looked me right in the face. "I know. I'd give it all up, to be with you."

_He…he really __does__ like me,_ I thought, stunned. "I also want you to know that I don't have any idea what it means to 'date' someone," I continued. "You will probably find that many social etiquettes that people adhere to in situations like that are lost on me."

Chase rubbed the back of his neck with embarrassment. "Oh good," he said, grinning wryly. "And here I thought I was the only one."

I stared. "I would think someone as high up in the student hierarchy as you would have experience in such things."

He shook his head. "Nope. You're the first girl I've ever been serious about."

"Why me?" I asked, my voice cracking again.

Chase took another step closer, so that less than a foot separated us from each other. "Because you're different. Because you're special. Unique. You're unlike anyone else I've ever met, Laura."

His arms stretched out to wrap around me, and I instinctively flinched and stepped back as my cheeks turned red. Chase stopped instantly, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. We'll…we'll go at your pace, okay? I don't want to rush you."

"No!" I said, more vehemently than I intended to. If my face got any redder I was halfway convinced that my cheeks would burst into flames. "It's just...no one's ever held me like that before."

"Not even your parents?" he asked, bewildered.

"I live with my father," I shrugged. "I never knew my mother." _Because I never had one; I was spawned in a test tube by a group of criminals._

"Is it, uh, okay then?" Chase said as his face turned even redder than mine. That was good; now, at least, I wasn't the only person who was in a strange situation. He looked even more self-conscious than me, if that were possible.

I felt that tingling crackle settle over my arms and legs again, and my heart began to thunder in my chest as Chase's pulse began to quicken. I looked away, my face the color of a tomato, and gave the slightest, most innocuous nod I could. My stomach was flip-flopping all over the place, my head was as hot as a furnace, but I'll be _damned_ if I were going to do this 'dating' thing half-assed, by thunder!

Chase reached out again, and I felt the subtle weight of his hands as he wrapped his arms around my midsection, just above the belt. I felt a slight, gentle pull, and even though alarm bells were going off in my head, I suddenly found myself without the willpower to resist as Chase pulled his body in to lean against mine. His heartbeat melded with my own as the blood pounded deafeningly in my ears, and I felt one of his fingers _shake_ slightly as he began to stroke my still-damp hair.

I just barely managed the urge to gasp.

_Oh…_I thought silently. _That feels…Good…_

Chase bent his head so that the crook of his neck fit into mine, and his breathing was as rushed and rapid as my own. My face was getting so hot that I thought my cheeks would burst into flames, and that pleasant, crackling fire that I'd experienced at his first touch now hummed through every cell of my entire body. My knees began to quiver a little, and, as if sensing it, Chase leaned in even closer so that he could support me against him.

I noticed how firm and sturdy he was, like a strong young tree, as I leaned against his chest. Chase, like everyone else, had his own unique scent: his was the smell of "Axe" deodorant, hair gel, and that musky odor that I'd come to associate only with people of the opposite gender. He was certainly better-smelling than Logan, that's for sure.

I felt his lips against my earlobe. "Laura..." he breathed. For Christ's sake, I could _smell_ the joy radiating off of him he was so happy, and for a moment, I wished more than anything else that I would one day feel it with him.

I felt the heat of his body fill me with the kind of warmth you get when you sit in front of a fire after a day out in the cold. My skin felt…_alive…_where his hands roamed, where his fingers touched. And Chase was so heartbreakingly gentle the way he handled me, as though I were some kind of treasure that would break if he touched me too hard.

That last one was ridiculous of course, but I guess it's the thought that counts.

My chest tightened again, harder this time, as his arms around me tightened just a little bit. This, I assumed, was a possessive/aggressive gesture inherent in males; Chase may have been signaling to anyone who may have been eavesdropping that he had claimed a mate, and any intrusion would _not _be welcome.

Maybe I was reading too much into it, though. Chase wasn't a wolf, after all; he seemed more similar in personality to a friendly dog like a beagle or something, and perhaps the slight application of pressure was more a gesture of affection than anything else.

Affection? I knew _nothing_ of affection, save for the warped brand of it that Logan had showed me. Chase, it seemed, was willing to give himself utterly to me, and the sheer intensity and spectrum of his infatuation was downright terrifying.

Logan. That thought sent a chill of fear through me. I had to keep Logan from finding out about this _at all costs._ I would tell him about Chase when I was sure I could gauge his reaction, and not one second before. I stiffened, and Chase went to let me go again-

-"No," I said, breathless with that curious blend of anxiety and heart-stopping excitement. "Don't stop."

He needed no further encouragement. I was pulled back into Chase's embrace like light into a black hole, and he let out what sounded suspiciously like a joyous sigh as he ran his fingers through my hair and breathed in deeply, as though the smell of me was like some expensive perfume.

"You're so beautiful," he said again, with an intensity that belied his quiet tone.

A fresh wave of fire lit my face up like a red Christmas light, and I tried not to meet his gaze as his praise of me made me somewhat embarrassed.

Chase drew back just a little bit and lifted my chin with one finger. "Look at me. Please," he pleaded.

My eyes were drawn into Chase's like a magnet, and his nose was practically touching mine. Chase, I thought giddily, had curiously-colored eyes: they were a sort of bluish-green that I'd never seen before.

Chase's voice was deliberately slow as the skin on his face brushed against me. "Laura…" he breathed, as though that were all the explanation I-or anyone-would ever need.

My arms began to gravitate toward Chase waist as if they'd had a will of their own, and with sudden fervor I seized him tightly and returned, silently, the gesture of affection that he'd shown me. Chase gasped in surprise and pleasure, a huge smile on his face, and his lips parted slightly as he leaned in close-

-And stopped. It happened so abruptly that I was kind of taken aback. I didn't exactly know what Chase had been planning on doing, but I was startled that I was so eager to find out.

I must have made a disappointed noise, because he rested his chin on my shoulder and said, "I don't want to make you feel like you have to something you're not ready for," he whispered. "You're not comfortable enough for that, are you?"

It was safest to nod, so that's what I did.

"Then it can wait," Chase murmured softly. "_I _can wait, Laura. It's…it's good not to rush things, after all, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded shakily, my hands clasping his back as my traitorous arms returned the heart-stopping hug.

The bell took that opportunity to start ringing.

Chase and I practically flew apart as people began streaming into the hallway. Chase's grin was bigger than a peeled banana, and it was so damn infectious that I began smiling in spite of myself.

"We should get to homeroom," Chase said, looking at me with eyes that were filled with some curious light. "You coming?"

He extended his hand to me, and slowly, very slowly, I placed my palm in his and felt our fingers intertwine. A shockwave of pure…_something_ made my heart skip a beat, and my voice was ragged and raw as I glanced shyly back at him.

"Yes. I am."

A/N: D'AWWWW! Don't you just LOVE a good fluff scene? You'd all be lying if you said you weren't looking forward to this moment! XD But how will the rest of the school react to this? What vile plans does Samantha Kelly have in mind? And how will LOGAN react take the news? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	11. Chapter 11

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

"_What's popular isn't always right, and what's right isn't always popular."-Maya Angelou_

Chapter 11: The Price Paid

Chase was still holding my hand as he led me down the corridor to homeroom. I felt my footsteps fall into synchronized rhythm with his, and I guess the situation would have been somewhat enjoyable if people hadn't started staring us. Chase, being an average human, couldn't hear what they were whispering under their breath with their backs turned, but unfortunately for me, I could.

"What is he _doing?"_ a girl with curly blonde tresses muttered resentfully. "Isn't she, like, one of _them?"_

"She doesn't deserve someone like Chase," one of her friends nodded. "I can't believe he'd actually hold hands with a _mutant._ Disgusting!"

"Like, totally," a third agreed, turning so that her back was facing me. "Maybe Chase caught some kind of disease from getting to close to her."

"He's, like, actually smiling," Blondie hissed. "Is he under mind control or something? Mutants can do that, right?"

"I think some of them can, but not all. Like that Little Ms. Perfect, Jean Grey."

I could feel the weight of the countless disgusted, judgmental glances that were lobbed my way like a volley of stinging arrows, and I felt their barbed points sink into me with a sharp, physical pain. I could _smell_ their hate, could _see_ the prejudice and arrogant self-righteousness pouring off the other students in tsunami-like waves, and they buffeted me like a tree in a flash flood as I fought to keep one foot going in front of the other. I looked down at my shoes, desperate to cast my gaze anywhere but at the people around me, and I felt disgusted with myself that their insults could have such a stinging impact. I had never given a horse's ass about what people had thought of me before, I hadn't even cared about _Logan's_ opinion of me until very recently, and yet a bunch of strangers could make me want to crawl into some dark, dank hole and hide? I didn't even think I was _able_ to contemplate such cowardice! I was an ex-assassin, for Pete's sake, and I did _not do fear!_ I feared no one! I feared nothing!

Even as that thought crossed my mind, I couldn't convince myself to believe it.

If there was anything close to a smile on my face before, that little revelation sent it crashing down onto my shoes. My face crumpled like a snowdrift as I bore witness to the scorn of my peers, and I wondered if Chase had the resilience to put up with this day after day. I was used to it, having been born a mutant, but _he_ was accustomed to being _liked_ by everyone around him. How would Chase be able to cope with such a fast and drastic change?

If he heard what those girls were saying, Chase gave no indication of it. He just kept that big banana-sized smile pasted on his face, as if he were never happier than he was now, and I concluded that he was either totally oblivious or intentionally ignoring those who stole furtive, contemptuous glances in our direction.

Chase motioned at the door. "Ladies first," he said.

"That kind of sexist crap pisses me off," I warned him, though I took his invitation anyway.

"But you're so _cute_ when you're angry," Chase laughed teasingly, poking me in the side.

"Then I must try harder to appear otherwise," I snorted. "Apparently, it's not working."

"Nope," Chase hugged me fondly from behind, to the astonished gasps of those already assembled in the classroom. I caught sight of Samantha Kelly practically blowing a gasket in her chair, her face red as a beet and her lips sputtering like a dying motor as she threatened to have a total nervous breakdown. Her eyes glinted with malice and hate as she glared daggers at me; if looks could kill, I would have dropped dead on the spot.

I felt a little bit of vengeful satisfaction as I grinned innocently back at her. _Take that, bitch-wad._

A hint of that curious heat welled up in my face as more and more of my classmates turned to stare, and Chase, instead of shunning the spotlight, reveled in it. He seemed to be under the delusion that going out with me was something to be bragged upon to everybody else.

Of course, seeing the twinkle in his eye, I wouldn't put it past him. This guy made Romeo look insincere, for Christ's sake; he'd probably jump off a building if I asked him to.

That thought made me giggle in a way that was unfamiliar to those who knew me, and Chase, walking to his desk, broke into an even bigger grin as the sound reached his ears.

"Did you just _laugh?"_ he asked, feigning surprise.

"Shut up," I told him, but there was no anger in it.

"You should do it more often, Laura," Chase said seriously, before turning a little red himself. "I…I like it when I make you feel happy, ya know."

That would have seemed hopelessly mushy if anyone else had said it, but I could tell that he meant every word. Whatever my own thoughts about our…"relationship," Chase was taking it very seriously.

I raised my estimation of him a notch. Being serious about the important stuff was a quality that I had had hardwired into me by HYDRA, and it was one of the few things (if not the only thing) that I respected about Logan. "Thanks," I muttered, glancing away demurely.

The guy in the row behind me tapped Chase on the shoulder. "Dude, whatcha doin', messin' around with _her?"_ he asked.

I spared him an obligatory glance and immediately classified the individual in the "Neanderthal" category. Broad-shouldered, with a protruding brow and wide face, he stood a good two heads higher than me and looked like he could break someone my size into two pieces. The vacant space in his eyes let me know that this was a person who relied on hitting things to solve his problems, and I could picture him perfectly in a Stone Age museum exhibit.

"Go to Hell," Chase snapped back. "Who're you to decide who I spend my time with?"

"I thought you were better'n that, makin' out with th'likes of a mutant," the other boy spat the word as though it tasted foul. "What's gotten into you?"

"Other than using my common sense and not acting like a racist bigot? Nothing," Chase retorted. "And I wouldn't insult Laura if I were you, capische? Otherwise she might filet you like a fish and eat you for breakfast."

"Oh, please!" the thug laughed, turning to glare at me. "Oooh, I'm _so _frightened of the new girl! You're kiddin', right?"

I gave him a long, cold, unblinking stare, my eyes boring into his like a high-powered drill. The sight unnerved the bully, as I'd intended, and I could tell that I had really "creeped him out" by the way in which he fought to concentrate on something else.

Chase snorted with smothered laughter. "Nice."

"In order to frighten away predators, you must _act_ like a predator," I shrugged. "They respond to body language, so I merely made myself out to be more dangerous than he'd anticipated."

"But you _are_ more dangerous than he is," Chase pointed out. "Like, _way_ more dangerous."

I gave him a mock-glare. "Don't forget it, either."

He laughed and reached across his desk to hug me again, to the consternation of everybody else. "_God, _you are so _hot_ when you do that," he smirked.

"Hot?" I asked. I'd heard the expression before, but I was unclear as to what it meant in this particular context.

Chase nodded. "You know, pretty, visually appealing, that sort of thing."

"First you tell me to smile more, then you say that you like it better when I frown. Make up your mind, please," I told him.

"Hmmm…" he pretended to think about it. "I think I'll take the best of _both_ worlds, Laura."

I let out another irritatingly involuntary laugh. I probably hadn't laughed three times in the past three years, and Chase had gotten that reaction out of me in at least as many minutes. What _was _it about him that made me start to have…_stirrings?_

_Don't you mean feelings?_ That little doubting voice sneered.

I clenched my teeth and curled my hand into a fist so tight that my knuckles turned pale. The tiny whisper of doubt that I felt in my head like a breath of icy wind was starting to gnaw at my gut like a ravenous mouse. The little knife of uncertainty that I'd first experienced on my arrival at the Institute had become the size of a freaking butcher's knife that someone had rammed into my stomach.

I could have been walking on the edge of the blade, for all I knew. Chase's display of affection in front of everybody in homeroom had riled up the students like a nest of hornets, and I knew I had to proceed with caution if I didn't want to be devoured like the lawyer from _Jurassic Park_.

Unfortunately, since I was so focused on the "big picture," I failed to notice what was happening right under my very nose. In any other situation, I would have heard Samantha Kelly sneaking up behind me a mile away, but with all the noise in my head, the sounds in the classroom had faded to a muted drone as I sat with my thoughts, Chase, and my thoughts _on_ Chase.

With the exception of Logan, I don't think I've given anyone that much attention before.

Samantha crept up behind me like the slithering wad of shit-stained snakeskin she was, and she let out a high-pitched, vicious squeal of malevolent glee when her finger seized a fistful of my hair and yanked it back, _hard._

I let out a yelp of surprise and pain, and Chase turned with an outraged roar that actually achieved commendable volume. I felt the roots threaten to pull free from my scalp as Samantha Kelly's pig-like screech blasted into my ears, and I was so taken aback that I didn't actually consider chopping her into caviar until _after _the incident was over.

Tears-_tears!-_of agony squinched from my eyes, and Chase gave the teacher a pleading glance as I felt blood well up onto my skin.

"_This is what you get for not knowing your place, loser!" _Samantha hissed joyfully. _"I hope it __never__ grows back!"_

I let out an excruciated grunt as my vision went gray with pain, and the noise _finally_ got the homeroom teacher's attention. An administrator, I thought, certainly wouldn't stand for this kind of blatant violence on school property.

I should have known better.

"Ms. Howlett, please settle down or I will refer you to the principal's office," the instructor said, meeting my eyes with a glint that matched Kelly's own. It was obvious that he _saw_ what was happening; he just didn't _care._

I drew my leg back and went to ram the heel of my heavy boot into Kelly's shin, but to my shock and grudging admiration, Chase Lancaster beat me to the punch. He picked up his thick, paper-backed textbook and brought it down on Samantha's head with a satisfying, bone-jarring _smack._ She staggered, stunned, and I took that opportunity to whirl around and practically ram my fist down her throat. A bloody tooth clattered onto the floor as Kelly tottered backward into her chair and clamped two hands on her bloody face and mouth, and the teacher, being the bigot he was, sprang to her defense.

Chase stopped him. "Before you go and pick that up," he said, nodding toward the teacher's cell phone with a smug smile on his face, "remember that the school has protocols in place that allow exemption when a student engages in self-defense. Samantha struck first and started the whole thing, so Laura was completely within her rights to protect herself. I, being her _boyfriend_," he enunciated that last word clearly, and I almost flinched as a condense wave of hate and loathing from the other students rolled over me, "was concerned that Laura might need assistance. Ergo, if anyone should be punished, it's Kelly, not us."

The teacher's face turned a shade of crimson red, and he sputtered for a moment before finally spitting, "Fine!" and sinking back into his chair. I took a moment to wipe my hands, which were still covered in blood, on the sleeve of Samantha's shirt as she lay moaning loudly in her chair. I had no doubt that that was a ploy to gain sympathy; before long, Kelly would have distorted the facts and altered the story so that _I _was made out to be the aggressor.

"Chase…" she sniffed. "How could you do that, choosing one of _them_ over your own kind?"

"That's easy," Chase replied coldly, taking my hand again in a silent gesture of defiance. "You're in it, aren't you?"

"You've thrown your lot in with the _mutants_," the boy in the chair next to Kelly growled. "_Traitor."_

"That so?" Chase's grin was amused. "I never knew I was supposed to let _other_ people tell me who I could be friends with, or more."

"Daddy's going to eat you for breakfast when he hears about this!" Kelly snapped. "Better watch your back, _mutant-lover!"_

"Are you with her because you can have her whenever you want?" another student jeered. "I never knew mutant girls were so easy! Hahahahahaha!"

Chase stood up so fast that he sent his chair clattering to the floor. "Any man dare challenge me, let him speak!" he growled, clenching his hands so that the muscles in his arms bulged. I assumed that the point of this was to accentuate his strength. "_I _decide who I go with, not _you! I _decide who my real friends are, _not you! _You are all voiceless with bigotry! Deaf with the preachings of prejudice that your parents feed you! Mute from the words of hate that spew from your mouths! You narrow-minded, baseless creatures, you make me sick, the lot of you! You deride me for treating Laura like a decent human being, but it is _you_ who deserve to be scorned!"

He turned to Laura's neighbor, who had snarked at him moments before. "You wanna have a go?" Chase snarled, narrowing his eyes as they roved around the room. "Do you, or you, or you? Spout one more crack about Laura being a mutant, just one, and I swear to God I'll meet after school at the flagpole to make you _bleed _for it!"

The other students, and even the teacher, averted their eyes so as not to meet Chase's burning gaze. I arched an eyebrow, both amused and rather impressed that he'd had the guts to do something like this. That no challengers to his claim of dominance were forthcoming seemed to me like a sign that Chase wielded more influence and power over his peers than I'd originally given him credit for. He certainly did look like the archetypal alpha-male, standing a good head taller than anyone else and rippling with mass that was all brute muscle. Chase wasn't built like an NFL linebacker, that's for sure, but he was lean and fast with a strength that showed beneath his skin. I appreciated for the first time how hard he must have worked to attain such peak physical performance; I hadn't had a need to do that, since it had been hardwired into my genetic structure, but Chase obviously spent more than a little time at the gym.

Without waiting for a response, he ran a scornful eye across the room and, I kid you not, _spat _right on the floor. "I thought so," Chase said contemptuously, grabbing my hand. "Let's go, Laura."

I let him lead me out of the room. I had a hunch that he wanted to assert that he was capable of protecting me (even though I hardly needed his protection or anyone else's), so I stayed quiet and let him have his moment. I felt my chest flutter again at the sight of the furious expression on his face, and I thought to myself that _that_ was the expression that _I'd_ like to see more often.

Chase, I concluded, was rather attractive when he was riled up. I could _smell_ the adrenaline and testosterone coursing through his veins even at that very moment.

We halted halfway down the hall, and Chase let out a long, drawn out breath as his anger began to vanish. I could see that such things didn't come easily to someone as…_nice…_ as he was. Perhaps Chase's parents had impressed upon him the importance of keeping your temper in check.

A shame. I could have taught him better.

He was visibly pale and beginning to shake slightly as he leaned against a nearby column. "Sorry about that," he told me, giving me a watery smile. "Guess I lost my temper, huh?"

"That's nothing to be ashamed of. Anger can be a powerful weapon, once you know how to harness it."

"You sound like a _Star Wars_ character!" Chase laughed, though the allusion made a sound like a jet plane as it flew over my head.

He suddenly turned serious. "I…I didn't embarrass you, did I?" he asked apprehensively.

"I've never been very self-conscious," I assured him, and I was startled at how quick I was to put his mind at ease.

"Oh, good," Chase sagged visibly with relief. "For a moment there, I was afraid. Think they'll leave us alone now?"

"I doubt it. We would be wise to expect some form of retaliation," I advised him.

"I'll keep that in mind," he nodded seriously as the bell rang. "See you in class?"

_No,_ said my brain. "Yes," said my traitorous mouth.

"Great!" Chase's face lit up like a freaking _Christmas_ tree as he ran down the hall. "Take care, Laura!"

I would only discover later that _I_ wasn't the one Chase should have been worried about.

_Much later…_

I was surprised to see Logan waiting for me that afternoon, not in the minivan that I had become accustomed to, but on his motorcycle. Two helmets dangled from his meaty hands, which meant that he intended for me to ride on that metal death contraption all the way back to the Institute. I disliked and distrusted this kind of vehicle, with its poor balance, inferior ability to negotiate turns and lamentable brakes.

I should know. I've stolen enough of them to become well-acquainted with the finer points of Harley-Davidson mechanics.

Logan took the precautionary road and shot a well-practiced, menacing glare at any student who got too close to him. I wasn't sure if that was for my sake or because Logan didn't do well with teenagers, but it worked, and even the crosswalk guard gave him a wide berth as I strode up casually to meet him.

"Where's the car?" I asked.

"In the shop," Logan growled. "That idiot Gambit took it for a spin after he'd slugged down a bottle of bourbon and rammed it into a tree in the front yard."

"Why didn't you stop him?"

"I was busy," Logan told me shortly. "You comin' or not?"

"Fine," I shrugged, choosing a black helmet with flame decals and a polarized visor. The chin straps _clicked_ as I snapped them together, but Logan was far from pleased.

"That's _my _helmet, Small Fry."

"Cry me a river."

"Gimme the damn helmet!"

"No," I told him stubbornly.

Logan must not have felt like arguing, which was unusual for him, because he muttered a curse word in a language I didn't understand and managed to cram the other helmet onto his skull. It just barely fit him, and I would have laughed at him just to piss him off if I weren't halfway convinced that he'd slug me for it.

Logan sniffed the air as I swung my legs over the motorbike. "What's that smell?"

"Diesel fuel?" I guessed, missing the knowing look that flashed in his eye.

"Naw, it's probably nuthin'," Logan shrugged. "Now hang on tight an' don' let go, 'cuz I don' want Chuck yellin' at me if ya go sprawlin' onto the pavement, hear?"

I nodded and dismissed the incident, thinking it nothing more than a result of Logan's perpetual paranoia.

I would curse myself later for being such a fool.

_Epilogue _

_Bayville, 7:00 P.M._

I wouldn't know it until later, but as I sat in my room later than evening, surrounded by homework and textbooks, Logan was out on the prowl. I had no idea that he'd caught Chase's scent on my clothing, never suspected that he might try to trace the smell back to the source from which it originated. I would learn later, to my horror, that Logan had slipped quietly out of the Institute when the Professor wasn't looking and found Chase just outside the entrance of a small diner, presumably about to eat supper.

I do not dare imagine the look of horror that crossed over Chase's features when Logan crept up behind him and tapped him roughly on the shoulder.

"Hey Tinkerbell," he growled. "Let's chat."

A/N: OH, SNAP! Logan KNOWS! What horrible fate will befall Chase now? Will he live to see the next day, or will Logan eviscerate him? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! YOUR OPINION COUNTS!

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	12. Chapter 12

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 12: Meet the Parent

I would not find out that Logan had decided to put the fear of God into Chase until the following day when Chase ran into me at school, and since I was not there when it happened, I write the account of what transpired outside the diner based on what was told to me.

And when I'm done writing this entry, I'm going to go downstairs and kick Logan's hairy ass so hard he'll have to bend over to sneeze.

Anyway, Chase froze with his hand still on the restaurant's door, and Logan's menacing growl almost matched the roar of his stomach as Chase mourned the burger, fries and milkshake that had seemingly eluded him.

He glanced up at Logan fearfully. Don't get me wrong, Logan's not a tall guy, but since he was an adult and Chase probably hadn't finished his growth spurt yet, he still had a good couple of inches on him. I don't blame Chase for being afraid, either, and I think no less of him for it. I would be surprised if even the _Professor_ isn't a little bit intimidated by Logan.

"So," Logan began, narrowing his eyes. "I hear you're dating my daughter."

The blood drained from Chase's cheeks. "You're…You're Laura's dad?" he asked, his voice shaking as he looked Logan over. I wouldn't be surprised if Chase had compared him to the horrifying love child of a motorbike gangbanger and a Klingon from _Star Trek._ "But she said she hadn't told you about me yet! How…?"

Logan's grin was feral. "You should really wear less spray-on deodorant when you're puttin' yer grabby hands on _my _kid, buster. I could _smell_ the reek of Axe spray and aftershave all _over _her, an' it sure as hell wasn't hard to track the scent back to it source."

"So does that mean you're a mutant like Laura is?"

Logan unsheathed his claws and glanced at them contemplatively. "Where do ya think she gits it, bub? Yer even more of a dumbass than I originally thought if you hadn't figgered that out by now. It's a wonder yer even able t'tie yer shoes, _boy_."

Chase opened his mouth to protest at the insult, but clamped it resolutely shut when Logan winked at him. It was a peculiar wink, somehow both cheerful and terrifying, and Chase let out a muted squeak when Logan threw a supposedly-friendly hand over his shoulder and steered him inside. "Let's you an' me git a bite t'eat, kid. Yer buyin', by th'way, so I hope you've got some green on ya."

"How generous of you," Chase retorted. "I can see where Laura gets her morbid sense of humor."

The pointed tips of Logan's adamantium blades began to dig into the small of Chase's back, and he arched in pain and discomfort as Logan shot the hostess a glare and claimed a table by the bar, snatching a bottle of Corona Light on the way. "Don't cheek me," he whispered, "otherwise things might get a little messy 'round here."

My progenitor disdained a bottle opener and simply _snicked_ off the bottle's rim, and he paid no mind to the razor-sharp glass as he brought the golden-colored liquid to his lips.

There were more than a few moments of uncomfortable silence as Logan slugged the alcoholic beverage down, and I guess Chase figured that Logan would kill him if he didn't speak on his own behalf.

Logan generally has that effect on people, I guess.

Chase cleared his throat. "Uh, I'm-"

"I know who ya are, kid," Logan cut him off abruptly, waving a hand. "Don't take me fer an idiot."

"According to Laura, you do a rather fine job of _that_ all by yourself," Chase shot back. "What do you want? I haven't _done_ anything!"

"I wanna know," Logan leaned in close, so that Chase could have a whiff of his rancid breath, "why."

"Why what?" Chase asked.

"Why Laura?" Logan elaborated. "Yer Mr. Popularity, aincha? You coulda had any woman ya wanted, way before now, but it's only when my girl shows up that you start hittin' puberty. Why not start datin' one o' those nice, normal girls?"

"None of those girls were Laura," Chase shook his head obstinately.

"They were prob'ly a lot easier t'score with, though," Logan pointed out casually.

Chase turned a fiery shade of puce as his face suffused with anger and outrage. "How _dare _you insinuate something like that? I have more respect for myself _and _for Laura than to try anything like that with her or anyone else! Don't paint everyone at school with the same brush, Logan! You have no right, no reason and _no_ evidence to accuse me of being a pervert and a lowlife!""

"That's as may be," Logan shrugged. "But yer still sixteen, kid. That alone makes ya hornier than a brass band in a buffalo charge. An' with that said, jest t'make sure we understand each other…"

Logan bared his teeth and unsheathed his claws with exaggerated sluggishness. "Don' lemme catch ya puttin' yer hands where they don' belong, d'ya hear me? If I find out that you tried anythin' funny with Laura, _an' I will, _if I even _think _you've bin lookin' at her lecherously, then I'll be more than happy to _remove_ the _problem…__permanently._"

Chase gulped at the gory implication as Logan made a snipping motion with two of his fingers. "Right. Sure. No problem."

"There had damn well better _not _be, for _yer _sake. So tell me," Logan continued. "Was it worth it? Givin' up yer popularity, the respect of the other kids? Ya think Laura's really worth goin' through all that?"

"If I needed to, I'd give it all up twice," Chase said determinedly. "She is _absolutely _worth it, and more."

"That right?" Logan made no attempt to hide his skepticism.

Chase looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking again. "Well…Laura's not like a lot of the other girls. She's way stronger, tougher, and more independent than almost anyone I've met before, and I guess it was her…_individuality_ that attracted me to her at first. She does things in her own way and doesn't put up with people trying to tell her otherwise."

"An' she decided t'date ya, just like that?" Logan snorted. "Makin' such a decision off the top of 'er head….that don't sound like the Laura _I_ know."

Chase grinned ruefully. "Laura was was…hard to get, for lack of a better term. I get the feeling that Laura was raised in…_unusual_ circumstances. She wasn't sure what to do at first, so I let her have a while to mull things over while she decided what to do about me. And you're right about one thing: Laura doesn't seem like the type to make a big choice spontaneously; I get the feeling she examines the situation from every angle, and with me it was no different. I don't blame her, to be honest. If someone had asked me to start dating them, I'd want to make sure I knew what I was doing, too."

"That may be so, but didja never consider that she could have said that jest to gitcha off 'er back? What if she kept ya waitin' an' never gave ya a second thought afterwards? What then?"

"Laura wouldn't do that," Chase said. "She may be…_cantankerous_ at times, but she's not a _mean _person."

"You sure about that?" Logan asked quietly. "You never know what kind of skeletons ya may find in a person's closet."

Chase's mask of congeniality rippled for a moment, as if Logan's words had struck an unintentional chord. "Yes, I am," he said, after a moment. "I've never been certain of anything in my life."

The hesitation did not escape Logan's notice, but he let the incident pass without comment and lapsed into silence as he drained his bottle.

"Ya _really_ are head-over-heels fer her, aincha?" he said, his face twisting into a sneer.

Chase turned red again, but he made no attempt to refute Logan's declaration. "Guilty as charged, sir."

"An' does she feel that way about you? Laura ain't much given t'sentimentality, kid."

"Honestly, I'm not sure if she does or not," Chase said cautiously. "But I hope that she will…eventually."

"Patience is a good thing t'keep in mind when yer around 'er," Logan agreed. "Laura moves at her own pace an' does things her own way, an' she don't take kindly to criticism or being rushed."

"I kinda figured that out already."

"Then there's a chance she _won't_ eat ya alive," Logan snorted. "An' knowin' Laura, she might just do that if she gits angry enough."

"She shares your tendency for violence, as well as your temper," Chase replied sarcastically, and I'm not sure if Logan noticed the insult or just didn't care. "What about Laura's mother? Does she live with you?"

Logan, to his credit, took that one in stride. "Dead," he lied smoothly, with a straight face borne of years of practice. "Bin dead fer years."

Chase's eyes crinkled in sympathy, and I'm almost positive that he was trying to figure out what my fictitious mother had seen in Logan. "I'm sorry," he said, and he probably meant it, even though he was being duped. I had to pity Chase in that regard, being so gullible; I would have smelled the deception before it had finished leaving Logan's mouth. "I guess that's why she never talked about her."

"She ain't a very open person, kid, especially with personal stuff like that. You'd do well t'keep that in mind, an' not push 'er to say more'n she's ready to," Logan said firmly. "Laura goes at 'er own pace, an' no one else's."

"She's stubborn that way," Chase grinned foolishly, and I can almost picture Logan rolling his eyes at the sight of it.

Logan slugged down the rest of his beer. "You like mutants, boy?" he asked.

"I'm not a bigot, if that's what you mean," Chase said with a defensive edge to his words.

"Glad to hear it," Logan growled, signaling the waitress for the check and quaffing back the rest of his beer. With a clump and a thunderous belch that made Chase gasp at the rancid smell, Logan stood abruptly and headed for the door. I guess he was satisfied that Chase had been suitably terrified and intimidated enough for the time being, the bastard, but just before stepping outside, Logan paused at the door and let off a final, parting shot.

"One more thing, kid…"

"Yeah? What?" Chase asked, oblivious to the murderous tinge in my progenitor's voice.

Logan's eyes narrowed into icy slits."If I catcha sneakin' into Laura's room at th'Institute, th'cops will _never_ find yer remains."

Then he stepped outside into the growing twilight, and was gone.

A/N: Yes, I know this is a REALLY short chapter, more so than what I usually write, but I needed to get it posted so that I could set the stage for what's going to happen next. To be honest, I did try to elongate it as best I could, but other than what I've already written there didn't seem much else for Logan and Chase to talk about. XD This was really just Logan trying to put the fear of God into Laura's new boyfriend, and there's only so much I can do without glutting the chapter with pointless filler. So I hope you all aren't too disappointed. ^_^'

And, as always, PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW!

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	13. Chapter 13

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 13: An Impending Domestic Disturbance

I found Chase at school the morning following his first meeting with Logan. I wasn't yet aware that my progenitor had gone out of his way to terrorize and intimidate him; if anything, I was a bit less surly than I usually was after rolling out of bed. I didn't even have to hunt down a rabbit or something to get my adrenaline flowing.

Logan, I had noticed at breakfast an hour earlier, had also been a little bit more sociable than he typically was. In retrospect, I think he was just happy that he got to scare Chase out of ten years of his life. I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case, since that's the sort of thing Logan tends to enjoy.

Geez, and people think _I'm _the one with issues.

Anyway, I had a tiny spring in my step when Summers dumped me in the parking lot in front of Bayville High. I didn't want to admit it, either to myself or anyone else, but I knew, on some intuitive level, that Chase probably had something to do with it.

I felt my face heat up again as I thought back to the way he'd held me, the way he'd run my hair through his fingers and the way he'd looked at me. The memory played over and over in my head, and I felt my skin break out in goosebumps as I could almost _feel_ his arm around my waist, his voice quiet and his breath hot as he whispered my name in my ear. For _hours_ afterward, my body had felt…_alive_, where his arms were, where his hands had been. I marveled at how _gentle _he'd been, like he was afraid I'd break if he touched me too hard. Of course, there was no chance of _that _happening, seeing as how my bones were indestructible, but Chase may have forgotten about that. Just the _thought_ of all that, and the exciting yet terrifying possibility of experiencing _more,_ _much_ more, made my head spin like I was on a fast-moving carnival ride, and if that was the case, then this was one ride that I wouldn't mind getting on again.

The whole thing was…_intoxicating._ But not in an entirely bad way.

My footsteps faltered. Was all of this something that "normal" people experienced in situations like that? Did Chase have some kind of latent mutant ability that allowed him to produce some sort of biological aphrodisiac? For Pete's sake, I'd only met him a few days ago! I didn't even _know_ him that well, and yet he could make my knees shake and my heart race with the mere touch of a finger?

Maybe it was something about to him, I mused, like the way he filled out his clothes or the way he smiled or…

I blinked as my treacherous brain threatened to run away from me. Thinking about Chase served no logical or rational purpose, I scolded myself. There were more pressing problems to consider, like how Samantha Kelly and most of the other students were out to get me, or that the _Principal_ was out to get me, or that Logan might find out if I didn't watch my step and then _he'd_ be out to get me-

Chase didn't rank on my list of enemies, though, but despite that, he had his share of fallout to deal with, too, namely being relegated to a social outcast for starting to "date" me. I wondered, with a pang of worry, how he'd adjust to that. After all, once you're at the top of the totem pole, it's a long, _long _way back down to the bottom.

My head began to ache as I rolled my shoulders to more evenly distribute the weight of my backpack, and I wondered if the size of the massive textbooks was an attempt by Principal Kelly to inflict as much pain and suffering as he possibly could on those beneath him.

If that was the case, then I had to give him credit for subtlety.

I ignored the stares of contempt and loathing that I got from anyone who happened to be in the hallway as I headed to first period. It wasn't hard, seeing as how I was so preoccupied, but thankfully I maintained enough awareness to avoid the Samantha Kelly's leg as she stuck it out from under her desk to trip me.

I trod on her shin with more force than was necessary, and she gave a little squeak as I stared calmly back at her.

"Better luck next time," I smirked, allowing myself a moment of vengeful satisfaction as I claimed an empty desk.

Chase's voice sent shivers down my spine as he turned to glance at me, but as soon as our gazes met, he blushed and turned his eyes downward.

So did I.

I'm pretty sure that what transpired next was what Kitty referred to as an "awkward moment." I was too embarrassed to say anything, and I'm not sure if Chase was even _able_ to talk at all.

We both waited for the other to speak first, and it was finally Chase that broke the ice.

"Hi," he said, cringing at how..._lame_ it sounded.

"Hi," I nodded back, noticing the shadows under his eyes. "You look awful."

"I couldn't sleep," Chase muttered. "I was afraid I'd wake up and find your dad standing over me."

"_What?"_ I almost shot out of my chair. "He _didn't…"_

"Oh, he _did,_" Chase grinned wryly. "He tracked me down last night."

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Not yet, no," Chase laughed. "But he said he would if he thought I wasn't toeing the line. Your dad scares me, to be perfectly honest."

"Logan scares everyone," I admitted. "Even the other kids at Xavier's don't like to cross him."

"I can see why," he smirked, turning back around. "He _does_ seem to care about _you_ quite a bit, though. Otherwise he wouldn't have gone to such lengths to intimidate me."

"Did it work?" I arched an eyebrow.

Chase smiled ruefully. "Oh, yeah. It worked, and _then_ some. That was probably the scariest dinner I've ever had in my life. I wasn't sure whether to introduce myself or beg for mercy."

"Logan doesn't believe in mercy," I shook my head. "For him, the bottom line is that if you're his enemy, he's going to kill you. There's no in between."

He paled. "Remind to stay on his good side, then."

"I don't think Logan _has _a good side, at least as far as I can tell," I snarled, my expression contorting with fury. How _dare_ Logan stick his nose where it didn't belong? Chase was _my _business and _my_ prerogative, not his, and what's more, Logan had no _right_ to act like a bully just to make himself feel powerful. Chase hadn't deserved the grilling that Logan had given him!

I clenched my fist. _I'm going to __kill__him,_ I hissed silently.

The wrathful expression didn't elude Chase, either. "You okay?" he asked, moving away slightly. I didn't blame him for doing that; I was just _itching_ to hit something.

My voice was so tight with anger that it came out a harsh grate. "Let's just say that Logan and I are going to have a little _chat_ when I get home…"

A/N: Looks like we're due for another father-daughter confrontation, eh? I wouldn't like to be in Logan's shoes right about now! XD

I know I usually don't write chapters this short, but I seem to have come down with a rather nasty stomach virus over the course of the afternoon and consequently I'm not at one hundred percent right about now (I threw up in the bathroom less than an hour ago). I'm not sure if this little spell of illness will last long or not, but as you can probably imagine, updating's going to be rather difficult for me if I'm confined to my bed. There's no guarantee of that at the moment, however; I'll just have to see if I feel any better later this evening, and whether I can keep my food down. Rest assured, if I need to postpone updates in the near future I will certainly let you all know about it, but for now I'm going to go have a lie down and take a nice nap.

Blech…

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	14. Chapter 14

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 12: Blood Debt

I didn't say a single word to anyone when Scott picked us up late in the afternoon. The entire school day had passed in a blur, almost as though I were seeing it through water, and I was so focused on one, singular thought that kept repeating itself in my brain that I didn't pay much attention to anyone or anything else. The lessons crawled by, the instructors' voices a distant, unfocused drone, and the more I was forced to wait, the more my anger grew.

My blood boiled with fury at the thought of what Chase had told me, of how Logan had so thoughtlessly hunted him down like a common animal just to intimidate and frighten him. I was practically chafing at the bit at the prospect of returning to the Institute and throwing Logan clear through the nearest wall, of hauling him up from the rubble by the scruff of his smelly neck and _beating the living crap out of him._ I was _daydreaming_ of making Logan pay, not only for what he had done to Chase, but also for sticking his damn nose in _my_ business! Who gave Logan the right to decide what I do and who I associate with, I thought, clenching my teeth so hard that I heard them creak. I felt _anger_ at Logan of a strength I'd never experienced before, a wrath of blistering heat that I could not and would not control until my bloodlust had been satisfied. My vision literally turned_ red_ as my eyes glazed over, and my entire body _shook_ with the force of the vitriolic fury that sizzled in my veins. I clenched my fists over and over, feeling and reveling in the adrenaline-enhanced strength that flowed all the way down to my fingertips, and every cell in my body cried out with an unshakeable, unquenchable, all-consuming desire to make Logan _pay_ for what he'd done. I wanted, lusted, _needed_ to hear the satisfying_ smack_ of my fist as it pummeled his face, I hungered for vengeance like a ravenous animal, and with all this in mind, I seethed and stewed in my dark thoughts the entire way home.

I guess I must have been giving off a subliminal message of ill intent, because no one sat in the seat next to me, including Kitty. That was fortunate, now that I think about it, because in my current mindset I may very well have skewered someone just for saying hello.

Scott pulled into the oversized parking garage and claimed a gap next to Logan's prized motorcycle, and a vindictive smile crossed my face as I bounded out of the vehicle and sliced the Harley almost completely in half. Motor oil and gasoline, still hot from the engine, burned my face with searing droplets, and I relished the screeching, grating sound of the ripping steel as my adamantium claws cut through the motorcycle's chassis like a link of sausage.

Logan's once-prized possession fell to the floor in a ruined heap of twisted metal, and I had gone about destroying it so swiftly that I didn't even break my stride. I disdained the knob on the kitchen door and opted to kick it clear across the room and over the couch; I guess I could have just opened it, but kicking the door in was much more satisfying. The flimsy, false wood was broken almost clean in two, and my claws were still extended as I whirled on a thoroughly startled Gambit. The Cajun had evidently been cooking something, seeing as how he was clad in a ridiculous chef's hat and was curled over a pot that steamed on the stove.

I grabbed him by his lapel and pulled him in so close that our noses were almost touching. "All right," I growled, "Where's that miserable pile of hairy, beer-slugging rat bait?"

"Y'mean Logan?" Gambit asked, gulping. "I think he's somewhere upstairs. Why?"

I dropped him on his rear and stalked off, not bothering to answer Gambit's question. I practically_ thundered_ up the stairwell and down the hall as my nose picked up the telltale scent of Logan, and I felt my lips curling into a snarl as I saw my intended victim emerge into the hallway. He and the Russian (I think his name is Colossus) were in the middle of rearranging furniture, presumable at the request of Jean or Storm. They carried a large, three-seated couch between them, and that was all for the better because Logan couldn't hit me back if his hands were full.

Colossus paused in mid-step, nodding cordially at me. "Welcome back, _miloshka,"_ he said, in a voice laden with a heavy Russian accent.

I lifted my middle finger at him in a universal symbol of contempt and tapped Logan on the shoulder.

Instinctively he turned around with an irate expression. "Can't ya see I'm-"

My fist made a sound like an iron bar smacking into a wet side of meat as I pulled my elbow back and slugged him with all the force I could muster. The skin of my knuckles became ripped and bloody as they collided with Logan's adamantium jaw bone with a metallic _clang,_ and I felt several of his teeth come loose in their sockets as his lip was nearly split in two.

Logan staggered drunkenly, blood running out of his mouth, and he spat out a tooth as he fought to clear his head-

-I didn't give him that chance. I casually elbowed Colossus in the stomach and seized the piece of furniture he'd been lugging before using it like an oversized flyswatter to send Logan literally _flying_ through the air. A portion of the elaborate wooden banister was crushed to splinters as he crashed through the railing and tumbled down the stairs, and I vaulted over the edge after him with an audible, bestial growl of vicious satisfaction.

Logan stopped rolling about halfway down, but I was on him again before he could even try to get back on his feet. I felt a jarring, numbing feeling shoot down my arm as I drove my fist into Logan's chin with a powerful uppercut, and even though the stinging sensation was uncomfortable, I paid it no heed. Giving Logan the ass-beating of a lifetime was the priority right now.

I grabbed him by his hair and laid open his cheek with a single swipe. Blood began to run down Logan's face as he instinctively clapped a hand to his wound, and I kneed him in the groin just before lifting him bodily and, as promised, heaved through the adjacent wall as plaster dust made my nose sting.

Logan got up unsteadily, and I knew at once that I'd taken him off guard. "The hell're you _doin'_?" he shouted, unsheathing claws of his own as the wound on his face closed like a jacket's zipper. "What was that fer?"

"Don't play stupid, you son of a bitch" I hissed, and there was so much venom in my voice that Logan took an involuntary step backward. "You know _exactly_ what this about! Does the name 'Chase Lancaster' mean anything to you?"

Recognition glinted in his eyes. "I jest wanted t'make sure-"

I cut him off as I drove my blades into his torso. "I don't _care!"_ I yelled. "You practically ran him out of town and you know it! _YOU HAD NO RIGHT, LOGAN!"_

Logan opened his mouth to speak again, but I spoke first as I grabbed Logan by his hair and slammed him face-first into the hardwood floor. "_Who I spend my time with is none of your goddamn business, you asshole! Chase didn't do __anything__ to warrant suspicion from either of us, but you just couldn't __resist__ the chance to scare the crap out of him, could you?"_

"Wouldja just lissen fer a moment-"

_BANG!_

Logan's metal-covered skull began to show through the broken skin as I forcibly shoved his nose into the stairwell, and the sickening _crunch_ it made as it broke gave me a thrill of fierce satisfaction.

"I'm _through_ listening to _you_," I spat, my vision going blurry with something approaching tears. "_It was __my __choice! My decision! Mine! I __chose__ to start 'dating' him, but now he's probably going to be afraid to come anywhere near me and it's all because of __YOU!__ YOU'VE RUINED EVERYTHING!"_

I was so busy ranting that I didn't see Colossus come up behind me with Professor Xavier in tow. The Russian's huge arms suddenly grabbed me like a coiling snake, and even as I struggled to break free I could feel Xavier using his telepathy to try to calm me down.

Logan gurgled something through his broken teeth as I felt a tickle at the base of my neck, a sure sign of Xavier's presence in my head. I think Logan swore at me as the Professor rolled up in his wheelchair. I am reasonably certain of it, but I suppose I could be wrong because it was hard to understand him with a mouthful of blood.

Baldy's face was absolutely blank as he steepled his fingers under his nose. "_That_ is quite enough, you two," he said, and though he were addressing us both, he liked directly at me as he spoke. "I will not tolerate violence on Institute grounds, Laura, not from you or anyone else. I believe this discussion would be better continued in my office…_now._ Come with me, please."

I glared daggers at Colossus. _Snitch_, I thought venomously. _I'm going after you next!_

Cue-ball grinned wryly. "Don't blame Piotr," he said, and I knew at once that he'd read my thoughts. "He didn't need to give you away; the dreadful racket you were making up here was more than enough to do _that._ And while we're on that topic, I would like to ask you to please refrain from breaking things unnecessarily. Contrary to what you or Logan may believe, I do not take pleasure in the continual repair and remodeling of this school."

"Bite me," I snarled back.

"A generous proposition, but I think I'll pass," Xavier replied politely, gesturing for Colossus to wheel him down the hall. I picked up on the nonverbal hint that I had no choice but to follow, so I gave Logan a moment to pick up his teeth and fell in step behind the Professor's chair.

Logan glared at me, and his expression was so fierce that I bet it would probably turn Medusa into a freaking garden ornament.

I stared coolly back at him. I regretted nothing.

I _still_…regret nothing.

A/N: Ouch…I don't think the little spat between Logan and Laura is over just yet; after all, Logan's not the kind of person to take an ass-beating lying down! XD And what will the Professor have to say? Will there be consequences for Laura? And what exactly is the dark secret that Chase Lancaster is hiding? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY suggestions or ideas, LET ME KNOW! ^^

To those who may be wondering about any concerns to my health that I mentioned in my last letter, you need not worry any longer. I assure you, I am feeling much, much better, and I thank you all for your concern. God bless you. ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	15. Chapter 15

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 15: Point of View

Xavier, now that I think about it, seemed rather cold as he led Logan and myself downstairs to his office. He must have been angry at _me_ for beating the fire out of Logan, and at Logan for nearly destroying an entire wing of the instant as he was being thrashed. I guess I couldn't blame him, in retrospect, but at the time I was too angry and feeling too betrayed by my worthless piece of shit "father" to consider anyone else's perspective.

Cue-ball lifted his wheelchair a few inches off the floor courtesy of his telepathic abilities, and by doing that he was able to negotiate the stairwell without the aid of Logan or that Russian What-His-Face. Anyone else would have been impressed, but I secretly had a suspicion that the Professor was just taking this opportunity to show off. I know _I _would.

No one spoke as Colossus opened the door to Xavier's study, and the quiet stretched into a frosty silence as Baldy wheeled himself behind his gigantic hardwood desk and shuffled a stack of papers like one of those news anchors on CNN. He cleared his throat softly, reached for a pen and scribbled something on a yellow post-it note while I took a seat next to Logan, who, to my immense satisfaction, was still leaking a stream of blood from the empty sockets where several teeth used to be.

I fought the urge to fidget in my chair. Was Xavier trying to make me squirm by drawing the whole thing out as much as he could? Perhaps he was making me wait to showcase his authority, but it didn't seem characteristic of the sickeningly sanctimonious and optimistic Professor to do something like that. I chalked up the long silence to unintentional thoughtlessness rather than a deliberate display of power, but whether he meant to or not, Xavier was still making himself look like a grade-A asshole of enormous proportions. I half-wished he'd just punish me and get it over with, if only to put my mind at ease.

Frankly, I wasn't too scared of whatever punishment Xavier had in mind. He certainly wouldn't flay the skin off my forearms or light burning matches between my fingers like HYDRA would, and compared to that anything the Professor could think of was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. What was he going to do to me, give me extra chores? I was more than accustomed to strenuous physical activity. Extra sessions in the Danger Room, then? That was _my_ idea of having _fun._

The Professor looked me right in the eye, and I stared coolly back at him, unafraid in the least. If that perturbed Xavier, he didn't show it. I had to hand _that_ to him, at least; Chuck had one hell of a poker face.

Xavier sighed then, pinching the skin between his eyebrows. "Laura," he said wearily, "Upon your arrival at the Institute, I briefed you specifically on the behavior that was expected of you. I emphasized, in no uncertain terms, that violence against others cannot and _will_ not be tolerated. You must learn, Laura, that you cannot solve all of your problems simply by thrashing them; if you truly wish to assimilate yourself into regular society, you _must_ get yourself _under control._ These violent tendencies of yours are getting severely out of hand. This is the second time this week that you have physically assaulted another."

"_Second _time?" I asked automatically.

"Yes," Xavier's voice turned dry, "if you count the unpleasant confrontation between yourself and a certain Samantha Kelly."

I felt my confidence begin to crumble, and even though I didn't reply, the message was clear: _How the hell did you know about that?_

"I make a point of inquiring about the conduct of my pupils in class from time to time," the Professor shrugged. "And your homeroom teacher had quite a lot to say about _you."_

I struggled to keep my face straight as the blood began to chill in my veins. Would Xavier expel me from the Institute? That was one possibility I hadn't considered; I didn't even think he'd had the stones to actually go _through_ with something like that! What would I do if the Professor dumped me out on the curb? There was nowhere else I could go!

"Now, before we decide your punishment, why don't you go ahead and tell me exactly what motivated you to attempt slashing Logan's throat?" Xavier asked.

I gritted my teeth. Was Baldy making me wait for his judgment just to torture me?

"Laura…" the Professor's voice prodded me gently. "I can't help you if you won't talk to me."

I fought the urge to hang my head miserably. I was going to be booted out, I just knew it! Son of a bitch, why hadn't I _thought_ of this beforehand? "Logan…" I coughed uncertainly to keep my voice from cracking. "Logan found out I was…_dating_ someone, and took it upon himself to hunt him down and interrogate him."

Xavier raised an eyebrow, and I could have sworn he seemed almost amused. "Is that so?" he murmured. "Do tell, Logan."

"I jest wanted t'make sure the little guttersnipe knew where th'line was drawn, that's all," my progenitor muttered. "Didn't mean t'scare 'im."

"Bull_shit,_" I snapped.

The Professor frowned at me, and I took the hint to shut up as Logan continued, "The kid's scent was all over Laura when she came 'ome from school t'other day. Stank of spray-on deodorant an' hair gel, she did, an' it weren't 'ard t'track the smell back to its source once Laura had gone upstairs."

"Really?" Xavier gave me an uncharacteristically concerned look. "I trust, Logan, that you have filled in your daughter on the importance of…_preventative_ measures in _that_ kind of situation_."_

Logan snorted with laughter. "I ain't touchin' _that_ one with a yardstick, Chuck. I'm gonna let Jean or Ororo take care o' _that _one. B'sides, if they'd gone too far, I woulda noticed."

I nodded, pretending I knew what Logan was talking about as Xavier steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "A valid point, Logan, but, her actions aside, I believe Laura's grievance against you is legitimate. It was hardly appropriate for you to go barging in on things that she considers private and personal, and though you may have meant well, that does not change the fact that what you did was entirely inappropriate. Personally, I think there is probably some truth to Laura's claim that the young man was as scared as she claims him to have been; I know _I_ certainly would be, were I in his position. But I am curious to know," the Professor leaned forward, "now that you have met the boy in person, do you still think valid your concerns for Laura's safety? Do you truly think him a-how did you describe him a moment ago?-a 'guttersnipe?'"

Logan gritted his teeth, and I felt a fierce grin start to play about my lips. He _hates_ admitting when he's wrong.

"No," my progenitor finally said sullenly, after a moment of hesitation. "Th'boy's all right, an' he seems sincere enough. I kin say fer certain that he's head-over-heels for _you_," he added, glancing at me. "I could practically hear Cupid's arrow thudding into his rear."

I turned crimson as the Professor looked to me. "As for you, Laura, I am afraid that steps _must_ be taken to ensure that you are able to reign in your temper. I will not allow you to lunge for the throat of someone whom you think has insulted you, and your inability to control yourself might have dire consequences if we don't work _together_ to alleviate it. I'm sure that Mr. Summers and I can find _plenty_ of chores for you to do in order to work off some of that steam."

"Let _me_ take care o' that," Logan cracked his knuckles to make his point. "I'll run 'er so ragged she won't have time t'think, let alone git herself into trouble."

Xavier snorted. "I think your volunteering for the task has less to do with helping Laura learn self-control and more to do with the vengefulness that I'm sure you are feeling right now, Logan. I will not allow you to abuse your authority simply to satisfy your own vendettas. Scott and the other senior X-Men will assist your daughter in reigning in her tendency to lash out, but this is one situation that _you_ cannot be allowed to play a part in; I fear that letting you participate would only result in an eventual repeat of what occurred this afternoon."

I had to admit that Baldy had a valid point on that last one. Put Logan and me in the same room and the chances were pretty good that one of us would end up slugging the other.

I cleared my throat to get Xavier's attention. I was almost afraid to ask, but I needed to know whether or not the Professor was planning to wash his hands of me after I'd outlived my usefulness. "You're not going to expel me?" I asked, inwardly fuming that my voice was starting to crack. I never knew the thought of leaving the Institute could upset me so much.

The ghost of a smirk hovered about Xavier's face. "My dear Laura, I am not in the habit of simply sending my students home all willy-nilly, especially if the student in question has no home to return to. This school is your home now; if I were to force you to leave and then something happened to you, I would _never_ forgive myself."

"If you make 'er leave, Chuck, then you might as well kick me out too," Logan growled, "cuz if that's the case, then I'll be goin' with 'er."

I stared at Logan, surprised by his sudden show of support. Given what I'd just done to him, that sort of display was the _last_ thing in the world I'd been expecting, especially from Logan. I was half-expecting him to hold the door for me on the way out if Xavier had decided to give me the boot.

I felt thoroughly ashamed in that moment of clarity. I hadn't been giving Logan nearly enough credit as I should have. He may have been cantankerous, grouchy and sarcastic, but at least he _cared._

_That was why he'd hunted down Chase to begin with, _I thought as an invisible knife twisted in my gut. _Because he __cared._

I suddenly found myself unable to look Logan in the eye. I felt like a slimy piece of filth-encrusted pond scum, the lowest of the low, and I was so disgusted with myself that I was half-convinced that I was about to vomit on Xavier's shoes. Good Lord, I couldn't _remember_ the last time I'd felt so genuinely ashamed and filled with self-hatred; guilt, after all, wasn't something I was normally accustomed to experiencing.

My mind flashed back to the pair of spiked bracelets that had been a welcoming gift from Logan the day I'd arrived, to the ride home he'd given me on the motorcycle that I'd destroyed. Logan had done nothing but try to support me the entire time I'd been at the Institute, and _this_ was how I repaid him?

I half-wished that someone would have the kindness to shoot me, but given my healing factor and adamantium coated skeleton, it probably wouldn't have done any good.

I fought the urge to bury my head in my hands. _Logan's never going to forgive me for this,_ I moaned silently. _Not that I blame him…_

Xavier's telepathic abilities must have sensed how shitty I was starting to feel, because he rolled himself out from behind his desk and said, "I believe the two of you could use a moment alone."

_Dead wrong,_ I thought viciously. _The last thing in the world I want right now is to be alone with __him.__ Logan probably can't stand the sight of me._

The door closed with a soft _click_ as Xavier gently pulled it shut, and for a moment the only thing that broke the silence of the quiet office was the silent _tick-tock_ of the old-fashioned grandfather clock in the corner.

I tried to look anywhere but at Logan, and the quiet became oppressive and smothering like a thick blanket that made it hard to breathe. I was almost to the point of hoping that Logan would just come out and say how much he hated me if only to have it over with.

You remember how I said earlier that I regretted nothing and _still_ regretted nothing?

What a load of bullshit.

I heard the soft rustling of fabric behind me, and I instinctively flinched as Logan reached out his arm. No doubt he was going to slug me as payback for what I'd done-

-But instead of nearly dislocating my jaw, I felt his large, meaty hand settle on my shoulder after a second's hesitation. Under normal circumstances I guess the gesture should have been comforting, but at the moment all I could muster was bewilderment at the fact that Logan hadn't tried to eviscerate me yet.

He opened his mouth to speak, failed to get any words out, and shut it again. Whatever Logan was trying to say, it must have been difficult for him to articulate.

"I'm sorry," we both said in perfect unison, before turning to stare at one another.

"Uh…" Logan looked as uncomfortable. "I'll go first."

"No, _I'll_ go first," I shook my head, taking a deep breath and gathering what was left of my courage.

"I'm sorry for beating you up," I began, flinching as though the words hurt me as much as my blows had hurt _him._ "I shouldn't have done it. You've done nothing but try to help me and I didn't realize it and I feel like _such a jerk_ and…"

My tone dropped to a hoarse whisper. "I'm sorry, Logan," I finished, cringing at how lame I sounded. "I'm sorry…"

His grip on my shoulder tightened. "So am I, Pipsqueak," he sighed. "I had a knee-jerk reaction when I figgered out you were datin' some kid. I was bein' overprotective…" he suddenly snorted with ribald laughter. "Imagine that, huh? _Me,_ bein' overprotective about someone! Never thought I'd see the day when _that_ happened!"

He stood with a groan and stretched his back. I could tell that the heavy chair hadn't agreed with him, judging by the kinks he seemed to have acquired. "Lissen Laura, if ya could, I'd appreciate it if you'd, uh, keep all this quiet…"

"I will," I nodded, surprised that I was so eager to please him all of a sudden. Until now I hadn't given a rat's ass what Logan thought of me. "And I won't tell anyone you apologized if you won't tell that I said the same thing."

Logan looked immensely relieved. "Deal," he said, grinning. "After all, it wouldn't do fer Bobby an' the others to think either of us 'ad gone soft, would it?"

"Exactly. We have an image to maintain," I nodded back, smiling in spite of myself.

At that moment, I knew on some instinctive level that, even though he didn't say as much, Logan had forgiven me for being such a thoughtless tool, and I practically sagged like an inflated balloon as a wave of utter, indescribable relief washed over me.

It was, I noted absently, a _very _good feeling.

A/N: Ain't that sweet? XD And if you liked the awkward fluff in this chapter, just wait for what I have planned in the next one! What challenges lie ahead for Laura now? Where will her relationship with Chase go? And is there any Diet Coke left in my refrigerator? Find out in coming installments of "Laura's Journal!" And PLEASE REVIEW! If YOU have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! YOUR OPINION COUNTS! ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	16. Chapter 16

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 16: The First Date, Part One

As was his apparent habit, Chase met up with me a few minutes before class started Friday morning. School, I reflected absently as I riffled through my backpack, had been engaging at first, but by the time Friday rolled around I'll admit that I was ready for the obligatory forty-eight hours of rest and relaxation. It was custom, I had observed, for many students to regard the weekend with something almost approaching religious reverence. I had dismissed the practice as foolish and idiotic at first, but now I could kinda see where everybody else was coming with the whole "thank God it's Friday" expression that I heard bandied about so much.

If that were the case, I mused, then I would not be surprised if Monday were regarded as a scourge of Biblical proportions. It certainly wouldn't have come as a shock, that's for sure.

I smelled Chase coming before I saw him, which was good because if he'd startled me by accident I might have ended up giving him a lobotomy just from force of habit. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was kill somebody right there in the hallway, especially if that somebody happened to be _him._

I turned a little green. I'd had enough of senseless killing and wanton violence. That was why I'd come to Bayville in the first place.

Chase's sneakers _squeaked_ on the freshly mopped tile, and the janitor, a surly-looking fellow with a thick beard and beetled eyebrows, shot us a glare as he dipped his mop in a nearby bucket. Chase didn't notice, and I couldn't have cared less.

I felt a curious combination of happiness, contentment and anxiety settle over me as Chase slowed his footsteps to match my own. It was almost as if a missing piece of me had been suddenly restored, like the last missing piece of a puzzle; simply sharing in Chase's company made me feel _whole_ in a way I had never experienced before.

He reached out silently and grasped my hand, and I only just refrained from drawing in a sharp, hissing breath, not out of pain or discomfort but because of the firecracker that seemed to go off in my chest as his fingers intertwined in my own. The feeling of his palm against mine sent waves of curious and intense pleasure washing over me. I had never known that the touch of another could be so…_intoxicating._

Was this how he was feeling right now, I wondered. Did Chase get the same curious thrill from being with me as I did with him? Did he experience the same jolt of pleasure whenever he saw me, even from a distance? Did he think of me in his idle moments or see my face when his eyes were closed?

Chase smiled, and I could see many things reflected in his expression. Unlike the other students, his eyes didn't have the same caustic mixture of contempt and loathing when he looked at me. To him, I seemed to be someone of endless fascination, like a painting that you could stare at for hours and never tire of seeing.

"Morning," he said, as if that were all the explanation required. "Sleep well?"

Actually, now that I thought about it, I _had_ slept rather soundly. "Yeah," I shrugged, looking away shyly and hating myself for it. What _was_ it about Chase that rendered me so self-conscious that I was incapable of even making eye contact with him?

"Any plans for the weekend?" he continued, keeping his tone light even as his heart went into overdrive. I could _smell _the fear coming off of him; he was nervous about _something,_ I just didn't know _what._

The wheels in my head began to turn. Why would Chase need to know that? What might he be planning to do with that information? Was he-

I clenched my free hand to stop myself before my mind spun into paranoia, and I was inwardly abashed to have even _considered_ the possibility that Chase might have some sort of ulterior motive in play. Chase Lancaster was about _the most_ UN-suspicious person on the face of the planet, and knowing an A-list kid like him, he was probably a terrible liar to boot! Why did I continue to suspect him even as I began to fall for him?Was I even _able _to trust people anymore?

And let me tell you, I _wanted _to trust Chase, and even I was taken aback at just _how_ fiercely I desired it. I _wanted _to put my faith in him, to rely on him unconditionally the way he seemed to do with me. I wanted to feel as though I could tell him anything and know that my secrets would be kept secure.

But that sort of thing did _not_ come easily to me, and that's putting it lightly. I had gone for so long without putting complete faith in anyone that I was starting to fear that I'd forgotten how.

Chase glanced at me guiltily. "Are you OK?" he asked, concerned. "Did I say something?"

I felt my heart twist, and the worry on his face made my very _bones_ ache. "No, no," I said, trying desperately to appear as though I hadn't been dueling with my inner cynicism. "You didn't do anything, Chase. I was just…thinking, that's all."

"So you're free this evening?" his face lit up like a Roman candle.

I thought back to the punishment labor that Xavier had promised to give me, but knowing a softie like him, I concluded that he could be persuaded to hold off until tomorrow. "Yes, I am," I said, my words halting. "Did you, uh, have something in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking we could go see a movie or something," Chase nodded. "Or we could go have a bite to eat, whatever you prefer."

I nodded thoughtfully. Truth be told, I probably should have seen this one coming; after all, from the inferences I'd drawn so far, the concept of "dating" someone went much deeper than simply walking to class together. It seemed typical to go on social outings with that someone in order to facilitate familiarity. Chase and I may have been "together" in a technical sense, but we still didn't _know_ one another on a more personal level. I concluded, therefore, that agreeing to his request was the logical thing to do.

Well, _that, _and the fact that I suddenly really, really, _really _wanted to go. I was shocked at just _how_ appealing the thought of spending Friday night with Chase Lancaster seemed, and the more I thought about it, the better it seemed.

"I'd love to," I said, giving Chase that genuine smile that I had started reserving only for him. "It sounds like a great idea."

He practically burst with happiness like an over-inflated balloon. "Pick you up at seven, then?" he asked, his grin matching mine.

I surmised that Chase either had a vehicle in his possession or was in a position to borrow one, and with courage inflated by the sight of his joy, I took a bold tack and gave his hand a squeeze. "That'll work."

He stopped walking as we came to his locker, and Chase eyes sparkled with a kind of energy that he only seemed to have when I was around. "See you tonight," he said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from my eyes and leaning in close. The blood turned to fire in my veins as my gaze was locked into his, and I thought, with a tremor of apprehension, that perhaps Chase was hoping to engage in the activity that everyone seem to call "kissing." I had observed the behavior from other students who had kissed unashamedly in the interim between classes, and since the two of us were dating I had naturally assumed that Chase would want to participate in it as well. That's not to say that I wasn't nervous or frightened since I had never done that sort of thing before, but after Chase had practically bent over backwards for _my_ sake, I thought it was high time that I do something for _him._

The tips our noses were practically touching for one shining, crystalline second, and I was just about to close my eyes as I anticipated his lips against mine-

-But then, with anticlimactic abruptness, the moment was broke when Chase turned crimson, pulled suddenly away and strode down the hall, throwing one last cheery wave in my direction.

I felt disappointment settle over my shoulders like a pair of iron weights, a let-down sort of heaviness that I found hard to shake off. Chase, it seemed, hadn't taken the damn hint, and I could forgive him that; I didn't expect him to be able to read my mind, and it was possible that I hadn't made my intentions clear. _I wonder what it would have felt like? _I thought absently, glancing at his retreating back. _Would it have felt...nice?_

_You wanted him to do it, didn't you?_ my self-doubt whispered in the back of my head. _You were looking forward to it._

_I just wanted to see what it felt like,_ I snapped back. _I was curious, that's all._

_Liar,_ it hissed. _You can't even fool yourself into believing that bullshit! No matter how much you might deny it, no matter how much you might have tried not to, you know somewhere in my heart that you falling for Chase Lancaster._

I faltered in mid-step as the cold, logical part of my brain processed the hard facts and came to that simple yet thunderous conclusion.

And the most disturbing part of all was that I couldn't bring myself to dispute it.

A/N: Heeheehee! I know you're all looking forward to it, but I just couldn't resist the chance to leave you guys hanging. *insert scary organ music* MWHAHAHAHAHAHA!

But in all seriousness, don't despair, my dear readers; the next chapter will be up very, very soon, and in any case besides this little thing was just a prologue for what happens next (that's why it's so short XD). Trust me, things are gonna start to get REALLY good when Laura and Chase appear on the dating scene! Will everything go smoothly? Will Laura and Chase finally kiss? And will Samantha Kelly try to crash the party? Find out next time in "Laura's Journal!"

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	17. Chapter 17

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 17: The First Date, Part Two

As Logan drove me home later that afternoon, I was positively squirming in my seat with anticipation. No matter how close Logan came to mashing the accelerator through the floor, the van didn't seem to be able to move fast enough, such was my impatience. The sooner I got back to the Institute, I thought smugly, the sooner I could weasel my way out of Xavier's punishment work, and once I did _that _it was just a matter of time before Chase pulled up in the Institute's front drive.

I glanced at Kitty out of the corner of my vision. "What are you staring at?" I asked, a hint of warning in my voice.

She looked away quickly as the Xavier mansion hove into view. "I'm not staring," Kitty protested.

"Yes, you are," I rebuffed her matter-of-factly. "You've been doing it for the past ten minutes, so don't think I haven't noticed it. I'll ask you again: why are you looking at me like that?"

Kitty shifted uncomfortably. "Well…you're, uh…_smiling,_" she finished hesitantly. "Like, _really_ smiling."

"So?"

"It's scaring me."

"You know what they say," Bobby joked from the row behind me, "like father, like-_Oomph!"_

His aged, rotting joke was cut off as I suddenly drove the point of my elbow into his midsection, and Bobby doubled over, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach. I didn't even turn around to acknowledge his discomfort.

Logan, seated in the driver's seat up front, let out a strangled, garbled snort, as though he were choking on something. I didn't miss the fierce grin of approval that he shot me in the rearview mirror, and I replied with one of my own as he switched the engine off and twirled the key ring idly around one finger.

I was out of the van before it had even finished coming to a complete stop, and I swung the Xavier Institute's front door open with much more force than was usually required. The hallway flew by me in a blur, but I wasn't even out of breath when I came to a screeching halt in front of Xavier's study and barged inside. I knew that it was considered a courtesy to knock before entering another's private workplace, but at the moment I really couldn't bring myself to care all that much.

The Professor, seated amidst a small mountain of loose papers, looked up from pushing his pen and gave me a welcoming smile. He didn't seem irritated in the least that I had interrupted him at his work, but then I remembered that benevolence was Xavier's stock-in-trade. He wasn't the type to get annoyed or angered easily.

"Ah, Laura," he nodded cordially, putting his pen down. "What can I do for you, hmm?"

"I…" I paused for a moment to clear my throat. It wouldn't do to make him think I didn't know what I was doing; after all, since I was basically asking for a get-out-of-jail-free card here, I needed all the factors in my favor to facilitate getting a favorable answer. "I need a favor…sir."

I added that last bit on a whim. I wasn't in the habit of calling _anyone,_ even Logan, "sir," but I thought that in this case it couldn't hurt my chances.

Xavier laced his fingers together and arched an eyebrow knowingly. "Enlighten me," he replied, shrugging magnanimously.

I took a deep breath and made a point of looking him in the eye. "Chase and I were planning on…going out tonight," I began, secretly delighting in Xavier's momentary astonishment. "And I was hoping that perhaps you would be willing to hold off on the punishment work you promised me. I can't go if I'm waxing the X-jet all evening."

The Professor was quiet for a moment. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yes."

He let out a sigh. "Oh, very well," he flicked his pen at me in acknowledgment. "I'll hold off on it for tonight and tonight only, Laura, and the reason I am doing so is because you came and asked my permission rather than simply playing hooky."

"You think I'd do that?" I asked.

He cocked his knowingly in response.

"Point taken," I muttered, conceding the matter.

"However," Xavier's voice was both stern and gentle as I turned to leave, "I expect you to be up all the earlier tomorrow morning. Is that clear?"

I nodded with enthusiasm, a grin playing about my lips. "Transparently," I said. "Thank you, Professor."

His eyes widened with teasing skepticism. It's _almost_ impressive how much Xavier can say without even moving his lips.

"You heard me, Baldy," I growled, my irritability returning. "Take that last sentence. Savor it. It'll be a while before you hear it again."

"I don't doubt it," he smiled gently, inclining his head toward me. "Good afternoon, Laura."

I shut the door behind me without replying. I'd already mustered about as much courtesy as I could for _one_ day. But I will admit that I was very pleased with the way things turned out; my estimations of Xavier's tendency towards lenience had been dead-on, and there are few things I take greater pleasure in than the accomplishment of an objective that I have set for myself.

I heard the hinges creaking slightly as my feet sank into the plush carpet, and I turned the corner with the intent of heading to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

Logan was outside waiting for me.

"A date, huh?" he muttered, leaning idly against the nearby wall and taking a slug of beer. "'Bout damn time. I was beginnin' t'think that yer boy'd never grow a pair an' jest ask ya already."

"He's tougher than you give him credit for," I shot back.

"I've met _marshmallows_ tougher'n Lancaster," Logan growled. "An' when ya see 'im, you tell 'im that I still got my eye on 'im."

He pointed to his eyeball for emphasis, but I had no intention of honoring his request. Telling Chase anything like that would probably scare him so badly that he'd be unable to think coherently for days. He was _terrified_ of Logan, and rightly so.

"Butt out," I said shortly. "He and I are none of your concern."

"The _hell _you're not," Logan gave a short bark of laughter as he turned to go. "Oh, an' by th'way, what ya did there in Chuck's office…that was well-played, Small-Fry. _Very_ well-played."

"I thought so, too," I shrugged, though inwardly I was pleased with his praise. "Um, don't you have lessons to teach or something?"

"Don' _you_ have homework t'do?" Logan growled back. "Lancaster prob'ly won't be comin' by t'pick ya up fer another two or three hours, so there's plenty o' time fer ya t'git it outta th'way. An' heaven help ya if'n I come back an' it's not done!"

"Oh, I'm _scared,_" I retorted sarcastically, though inwardly I was sighing with exasperation.

I understood, at last, why everyone else seemed to hate the thing called "homework" so very, very much, and I let out a weary sigh as I hefted my backpack again and headed for the kitchen. There was a small table there that would be perfect for my purposes, and in any case I couldn't solve polynomials on an empty stomach.

I nicked a handful of something called "cookies" from the pantry and took a seat as I entertained a brief daydream of stuffing worksheets down my math teacher's throat until he choked to death. _That _would be a sight to see.

With a dark chuckle, I put the graphite tip of my pencil to the sheet of blank paper.

_Much later…_

The sun was already starting to set when I finally finished up the enormous mound of horseshit-infested drudgery that my teachers had assigned. I could feel the tension in between my temples that was a telltale sign of an oncoming headache, which wasn't that big of a surprise because I was partially convinced that my brain had been reduced to a jelly-like mush that would start oozing out my ears at any given moment. I had _never_ been so glad to just be _done_ with something as I was now, and I let out a tired groan of pent-up frustration as I got to my feet.

I checked the clock on the wall. It was nearly six forty-five, which meant that I had been working for more than two hours. I was surprised. It had seemed like much longer.

I dumped the crumb-strewn paper plate into a nearby cylindrical storage device that functioned as a receptacle for trash and waste, and as I slammed it firmly shut my chest tightened with renewed anticipation for the social outing that I had planned with Chase.

I felt my heart do a backflip. Would he be here soon? Surely he would have finished his schoolwork by now, as I had, and Chase didn't seem like the kind of person who forgot appointments or promises easily. _He must be on his way even now,_ I told myself. _He said he'd come by at seven, didn't he? That's only fifteen minutes away._

A quarter of an hour suddenly seemed like an eternity, and I told myself that if I wanted the time to go by faster I could run upstairs and try to make myself presentable. I mean, I _thought_ I looked fine, since I hadn't been fighting or running through mud or anything, and a quick glance in a nearby wall-hanging, oval-shaped mirror confirmed it. I looked no different than I had at school this morning; why worry about such things now, when I'd never concerned myself with cosmetics before?

_You worry because you want to impress him, _that same, naggling little voice of doubt whispered. _You want to make it so that he can't keep his eyes off you. You want Chase to think you're "cute."_

_Maybe I _should _go wash my face or something,_ I agreed uncertainly. _After all, it never hurt to-_

The doorbell chimed suddenly, and I nearly jumped clear out of my skin as the sudden noise made me start. My heart began beating so hard and fast that you could probably hear it pounding unaided, and I felt that strange mixture of happiness, self-consciousness and anxiety create a clammy sweat on the palms of my hands. My cheeks grew so hot that I thought they would burst into flames, and I felt my fingers tremble slightly as I heard Xavier rolling up to greet his newest guest.

I heard the front entrance creak open.

"Ah, you must be Chase," Xavier said from down the hall, his tone warm and welcoming. "Please, come in. Laura's told us all about you."

"I certainly hope not," Chase murmured to himself, and though the Professor didn't hear his reply, I did. Aloud, he asked, "Is Laura here?"

"She's in the kitchen just down the hall," Xavier replied. "Your friend has been rather busy with schoolwork this afternoon, but she's probably done now."

"Thank you, sir," Chase kept his voice low and respectful as I heard his feet _shushing_ across the carpet. "It's Professor Xavier, right?"

"Just 'Professor' will do," Baldy smiled back.

I found myself torn between the sudden urge to run and hide and the desire to see Chase in person again. Ultimately, my indecisiveness solved the problem for me because Chase rounded the corner when I was in the middle of debating with myself.

His face turned as red as my own, but he smiled in spite of it. "Hi, Laura," he said, after a moment's pause.

"Hi, Chase," I nodded back.

"Are you, uh, ready to go? I can give you a few minutes-"

"No, I'm good," I cut him off, not out of a desire to be rude but rather out of my eagerness to be alone with his company. "Did you bring a car?"

"My mom let me borrow hers," Chase grinned wryly. "Though you wouldn't believe what I had to do to get her to agree to it."

"I could think of a few things," I sniggered, flashing back to the evisceration of Logan's prized motorcycle. I still didn't know if he'd found out about that yet. "So what's the plan?"

"The plan?" Chase laughed. "The _plan_ is to have fun. I was thinking we could grab a bite to eat at the burger joint down the way a bit, first. I dunno about you, but I'm _starving._"

I wasn't hungry at all due to all the cookies I'd consumed, but I didn't let Chase know that. "Sounds good to me," I said, taking a split second to draw up my courage before seizing his hand.

He turned an even deeper shade of red, but returned the gesture with one of his own. "Great!" Chase beamed, leading me to the door. "C'mon, I left it running."

The car that Chase's mother had allowed him to use for the evening was hardly stylish, an old Camry that was almost a clunker, but I knew that Chase had gone to considerable lengths to acquire it and so I nodded in admiration instead. "It's got character," I told him.

He laughed, a genuine laugh of pure contentment. "You think so? I thought it was a bit of an eyesore myself, but I couldn't afford to be too choosy."

I found that Chase was even more handsome when he smiled as he did now, and I took a moment to enjoy how…_pleasurable_ just _being_ in his company turned out to be.

Chase slid into the driver's seat and pulled the clutch, and I surmised that he must have taken driving lessons prior to our first meeting because he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

I looked at him with a jaundiced eye, wondering what it was about him that was starting to entice me like a moth to a candle's flame. Perhaps it was the way he filled out his clothes, or the way the corners of his eyes crinkled with merriment when he laughed. The merry, cheerful outlook of his that I'd at first thought repulsive now made me somewhat envious. I almost _wished _that I could see the world the way Chase Lancaster did, to look around me and not see the Earth for the cruel and unforgiving jungle that it was.

Chase, gripping the wheel in his left hand, reached out his right to lace his fingers in mine, and I moved to reciprocate the gesture without consciously realizing I was doing so. His fingers warmed my own with a heat that was as refreshing as sitting in front of a fire after being outside on a cold day, and that now-familiar sensation made my skin break out in goosebumps and sent waves of pleasant shivers down my spine.

He pulled the clutch and turned the vehicle out of the driveway and into the adjacent street, and Chase showed remarkable dexterity because he didn't let go of my hand in the process.

That was good, I thought, smiling inwardly. I didn't want him to.

A/N: Awww! That's just adorable, isn't it? XD And I know you're all eager to see our two protagonists kiss, but everything has its own place and time, and the time for _that_ has not come just yet, even though it draws near. Please be patient, my dearest readers; after all, good things come to those who wait…*wink* But what will happen as Laura and Chase venture onto the dating scene? When will you, my dear readers, get to read the moment you're all dying to see? And what secret is Chase Lancaster hiding? Find out in coming chapters!

And PLEASE REVIEW! If YOU have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! ^^ YOUR OPINION COUNTS!

But while I am on the topic of reviews, if any of you are fans of X23 and would like to see more of her in the works of other authors on this site, I highly recommend that you check out a story called "Webs of Deceit" by AnimeMaster24. This story is one of the unsung jewels of the X-Men Evo fandom, and I _strongly_ encourage you to review as you read; despite the story's high word count and exceptional quality, less than a hundred people have left comments, and AnimeMaster (with whom I have exchanged letters on multiple occasions) hasn't received NEARLY enough credit for the exquisite work that he has created. I have the story on my favorites list in my profile, so when you finish here, I strongly encourage you to hop on over there and leave your thoughts and comments on "Web of Deceit." It is a wonderfully developed story with an in-depth plot and a host of rounded characters, and it deserves to be hailed and recognized as such.

Seriously, it's just _that good_. ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	18. Chapter 18

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 18: Revelations! Chase's Secret Is Out!

The small, family-style diner whose parking lot Chase pulled slowly into was the kind of eatery that you'd expect to see on old TV programs from the sixties. It was the archetypal old-fashioned soda fountain, one of only a few left still in operation, apparently. The bar was made of cheap imitation marble, the stools, chairs and booths of aluminum with bright, cheery red cushions that were battered and worn from years of consecutive use. Neon-lit signs on the walls and windows advertised the establishment's most well-known menu options in blaring letters of neon green, crimson red and shocking pink, and the air smelled faintly of hamburger meat and lemon-scented cleaner. I could hear the sizzle of patties and pieces of chicken on the grill in the kitchen behind the counter, and my stomach gurgled sourly to remind me that the handful of Oreos I'd eaten that afternoon weren't going to last very much longer.

Chase held the door for me as I walked inside. I was perfectly capable of opening it for myself, obviously, but it was my understanding that such practices were expected of males his age. The Professor would have called it chivalry. I called it annoying because it felt as though Chase was babying me, but I let him go ahead with it because I didn't have the heart to tell him so.

A waitress in her mid-thirties, apparently the only employee on duty at the time, glanced up from a tarnished, battered cash register that must have been made during the Second World War. Ordinarily, the diner's level of wear and tear would have made it look decrepit and run-down, but I found that the well-loved appearance of the place to be rather endearing. I knew that a lot of memories had been made here over the decades, and perhaps now I could make a few of my own.

"Well, ain't that jest a pretty picture?" the woman asked, her voice laden with an incredibly thick Georgia accent as she beamed at us. "If you folks'd jest foller me, I'll take ya to a table."

The lady whisked a pair of menus into her hands and bustled out from behind the bar, whistling merrily. Personally, I found it almost incredible that someone could be so cheery when they were working for minimum wage, and Chase and I exchanged knowing grins as we claimed a booth in the far corner.

"What can I git you two t'drink?" the waitress asked, her eyes crinkling with silent laughter.

"I'll have a Coke," Chase said, flipping his menu open.

I had no idea what a "Coke" was, but if Chase liked it, then there was probably a good chance I'd like it, too. "Make it two," I added.

"All-righty then," the hostess jotted down a few scribbles on the notepad she carried with her. "I'll have those right out, an' in the meantime ya'll kin give the menu a once-over an' see whatcha'd like to eat, 'kay?"

Chase nodded as the woman bustled away, and he turned his head to appreciate the atmosphere of the old place. "It certainly has character," he remarked.

"Yeah," I agreed, finding once more that I was more prone to talking when I was speaking to _him._ "Looks kinda old, though."

"At least it aged well," Chase snickered. "Unlike your dad. How old is he again?"

It's fortunate that I wasn't drinking anything at that moment, because if I were I have no doubt that whatever I was consuming would have come squirting out my nostrils. "No one's been brave enough to ask," I snorted. "At least, no one that _I_ know of. Even _I_'_m _not sure of his exact age; Logan's a mutant, like me, so it's hard to tell.

"Why's that?" Chase asked, intrigued.

I blinked. After more than a week of being looked down upon for being one of "them," it was almost surreal to have someone getting so _interested_ in my mutant abilities. Then again, this was Chase, I told myself; he wasn't like everybody else, in more ways than one.

"Well…" I thought for a second before continuing. "Logan has something called a 'healing factor.' It lets him heal almost instantly from any wounds or injuries that he receives without even leaving a scar, and by default his aging process is slowed almost to a crawl. Some of the other instructors at Xavier's think he could be well over a century old. That, coupled with his adamantium skeleton, make him almost impossible to kill; he can go on fighting forever, at least theoretically."

"A _century?"_Chase gawked. "He looks barely out of his thirties!"

"I know. Neat, huh?" I grinned. "Think dog years, but in reverse."

"And he passed that particular trait down to you, right?" Chase inquired.

I nodded, unsheathing my claws. "_That_, and a few other things."

"So…" he nodded at the blades that extended from my knuckles. "How'd that happen, anyway?"

I shivered, trying not to let horrific memories of HYDRA claw their way to the surface. "Family curse," I said, and in a way, it was true when you think about it.

"Does it hurt?" Chase's voice was quiet, his gaze soft. "When they come out, I mean?"

I looked at the two pairs of razor-sharp metal, and my reflection mirrored the uncharacteristically soft expression on my face. "Yes, it does," I admitted. "Every time. If I didn't have a healing factor like Logan, I'd be bleeding all over the table right now."

I retracted my claws with an audible _snikt_ as I saw the hostess returning, bearing a tray topped with two glasses of dark, foamy liquid in one hand and her memo book and pen in the other. I could hear the beverage fizzing and popping like an Alka-Seltzer as she set the two cups in front of us, and I eyed my beverage warily. I'd never a seen a drink do _that_ before; was it poisoned?

Chase unwrapped his straw and swallowed almost a third of his portion in one giant gulp. I didn't want to seem like a savage, so I leaned forward, despite my misgivings, and took a sip as well.

I almost stood up straight with shock. The sheer sweetness of it was almost overpowering at first, I thought, and the little bubbles in my straw threatened to shoot up my nose with a maddening tickling, tingling feeling. It had a syrupy taste to it as well, which lingered after I had swallowed.

Chase laughed aloud at the sight of me. "Never had Coke before, Laura?"

"As a matter of fact, no, I haven't," I replied, trying to resist the urge to rub my nose as to prevent those infernal bubbles began shooting into my sinuses. "How can you _stand_ drinking all that fizzy stuff? It's driving me nuts!

"It takes practice to drink it without getting up your nose," Chase shrugged, though I could see the laughter in his eyes. "Pity I didn't bring my cell phone; this would make a great Youtube video!"

"I dare you to try it," I retorted, glaring at him, but there was no anger or outrage behind it.

"What are you going to do?" Chase asked teasingly. "Cut off my arm?"

"I'll cut off _something,_" I promised him, arching an eyebrow knowingly.

His eyes bulged, and I could tell that he understood the implied meaning of my threat. "I'll, uh, keep that in mind," he said, coughing delicately.

The waitress coughed delicately, having been forgotten as Chase and I conversed. "Ya'll ready to order?" she asked, clearing her throat to gain our attention.

I looked at the options in front of me and concluded that most of the items on the menu amounted to nothing more than heart attacks and blood clots on a plate. Small wonder obesity was on the rise, with choices like _this_ being offered. I cared not, I decided, for fried chicken or hamburgers; I was still adjusting to eating my meat cooked after so many months of eating it raw in the wilderness, and I didn't want Chase to think I was some sort of savage.

"I'll have a burger and a chocolate milkshake," Chase nodded, passing his menu back.

"Got it," the hostess grinned, scrawling on her little book again. "And fer you, hon?"

"I'll have the chili fries," I said, more out of a desire to divert her attention than any longing for food. Hell, I didn't even know what chili fries _were,_ but I was starting to think that if I didn't eat something pretty soon I'd have to resort to freaking c_annibalism_.

If that were the case, I grinned viciously to myself, then Samantha Kelly would be the _first _to go.

"Okay, what are you plotting?" Chase asked with mock severity, slipping his arm under the table and grasping my hand as he spoke. "I know that smile; you've got something up your sleeve, don't you?"

"I am amusing myself by planning Samantha's hypothetical murder in painstaking detail," I said, and that was at least _partially _true.

He suddenly grew serious. "Beating her up like you did in homeroom the other day won't solve anything, you know."

"True," I admitted. "But it makes me feel better inside."

Chase scooted a bit closer. "That's not very nice," he pointed out.

"Please," I snorted. "Who said I was _nice?"_

"_I _think you're nice," Chase murmured, scooting a bit closer and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "And strong. And beautiful."

I turned an impressive shade of vermillion. "Thanks," I said, when I could finally get my brain and my mouth to connect. "That…that means a lot to me, Chase."

I meant it, too. No one had _ever_ talked to me like that before.

He drained his cup and signaled the waitress for a refill. "Glad to hear it," he murmured, his cheeks heating up to match mine.

"So...what about _your_ parents?" I asked after a moment of unbearable awkwardness.

"I'm adopted," Chase said, matter-of-factly. "I've been living with a foster family since I was very small."

"Oh." I sure as hell hadn't been expecting _that._ "What happened to your biological parents?"

Chase shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I'd rather not say," he said, and I felt my heart clench with sympathy. "It's not something I like to go around broadcasting. I met my real dad not too long ago, but-"

"You did? Seriously?" I smiled. "That's great!"

"I don't know if I'd go that far, at least not yet," Chase rubbed the nape of his neck and looked away. "Dad is a, uh, _complicated person._ He's a lot like _your _dad, now that I think about it."

"How'd you find him?"

"I didn't," Chase laughed. "He found _me_ after he got out of prison and-_get this_-he actually sued my foster parents for custody. They reached a settlement where I'm allowed to visit him a few times a week, but still…he's not someone you'd approach lightly."

"You say he was in prison," I said. "What'd he do?"

"Bad stuff," Chase looked away again. "Like, a _lot _of bad stuff. And he might _still_ be out there doing it if he hadn't found me first."

"So why keep seeing him, if he's so bad?"

His grin was dry. "I think I'm a good influence on him, Laura. Maybe if I keep trying, he might yet make good of himself. I mean, the guy's my _dad;_ I can't just _a_ _abandon _him, can I?"

"No, I guess not," I muttered.

The smell of meat and spicy sauce assailed my nostrils as the diner's resident cook, clad in a greasy apron, put two steaming plates of food on the counter and mashed his hand on a small bell. "Order up!" he called loudly, gesturing to where Chase and I were sitting.

The small bell gave a loud _ding_ that belied its diminutive size, and as it did so several things happened at once.

What I can only describ as a huge, shaggy _blur_ bounded up from out in the now-darkened street with frightening swiftness. It disdained the door, opting instead to ram it clean off of its hinges and send it crashing against the far wall, and the air was filled with a spray of shattered glass as the hostess gave a terrified, startled shriek. A blast of cool night air made my skin go all bumpy as the massive intruder got to his feet; I realized, with a start, that he'd been charging on _fours._

Now that I could see him clearly, this fact did _not _surprise me. This guy was just about the most savage-looking human being I'd ever encountered, save perhaps Logan.

"Big as a house" hardly did him justice. He towered over everything like a solid pillar of pure menace, and his long, greasy blonde hair ran all the way down to his waist. His brutish, almost ape-like features were twisted in what seemed to be an almost permanent snarl, and a single elongated canine could be clearly seen protruding from behind his lower lip. The large, tan-colored trench-coat he wore over his shoulders was as ragged and tattered as the rest of his clothes, and his large fists, each the size of a small ham, culminated in fingertips that sported matching sets of razor-sharp claws. I noticed immediately that those claws weren't made of adamantium; they were essentially fingernails that grew to unnatural length and had been filed into keenly-edged points.

The giant raised his head and let out a full-fledged, bestial roar as his nostrils flared, and I surmised that his sense of smell, like mine, had been enhanced. It was possible and even likely that he was a mutant, but not one that I'd ever encountered before.

His great shaggy head swiveled toward me, but it was clear that _I _wasn't the one he was focusing his attention on.

Chase, for his part, didn't seem perturbed in the least that a homicidal-looking mutant was glaring at him. The only expression he gave was an exasperated and almost world-weary sigh, pinching the skin between his brows, and before I knew what was going on, Chase had gotten to his feet.

The newcomer spoke, and his voice was as deep as a bear's and more threatening than a rabid wolf. "Where is he?" he rasped, his words grating and scraping like nails on a chalkboard. "_WHERE IS LOGAN?"_

I flinched with shock at the mention of my progenitor's name. _Does Logan know this guy?_

"He's not here," Chase said, his tone quiet yet firm. "Which reminds me: what the hell are you _doing? _Why are you even here? I _told_ you I had plans tonight!"

"Don't take me fer an idiot!" the giant hissed back, sniffing the air again. "Logan's stink is all over this place; I kin _smell _it all over ya, boy! Where is 'e, then? Hidin' 'round here somewhere? I swear, when I git my hands on 'im-"

"You'll do _what?"_ I growled, getting to my feet and crouching into a fighting stance as my claws shot out.

The brute's eyes widened as he made to lunge at me. "What in the _hell?_ You ain't Logan!"

"No shit, Sherlock," I spat back.

Chase raised his voice as he threw himself between us. It was a good thing he did, because me and the other guy were about two seconds away from having at each other. "Could everyone _please_ just take it easy for a second?" he cried, shooting an apologetic look my way before turning back to his apparent attacker.

"It's true what they say, I guess," Chase finished slowly. "Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Laura," he added, glancing at me apologetically before shooting a glare at the intruder, "_This _is who I was telling you about just a moment ago. If I'd known he was coming I would have given you a heads-up, but apparently _some_ people don't think to call ahead."

"That guy's your…?" I was so shocked that I couldn't even bring myself to finish. For the first time since I could remember, I found myself utterly lost for words.

"Yes," Chase nodded. "This is Victor Creed…my father."

A/N: Oh, _snap._ That's all I can say, really. Talk about a family feud! XD But how will Laura and Logan take this news? What will Sabertooth do when he learns who his son is dating? And what part will he play in all of this? Find out in coming chapters! AND PLEASE REVIEW! If YOU have any ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	19. Chapter 19

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 19: Backlash

I think my mouth dropped open like a drawbridge at Chase's pronouncement. That was significant, because after my experiences with HYDRA and my joining the X-Men, hardly anything _really_ shocked or surprised me anymore.

It was hard just to wrap my_ brain_ around it. Chase Lancaster, who was by far the most _un-_threatening person you'll ever meet in your life, was begotten by a guy who looked like a cross between a Kodiak bear and a freaking _Sasquatch?_ Jesus Christ, this "Victor Creed" character looked about as savage as you could get while still walking upright! It didn't make any sense; how could someone so ill-tempered and animalistic have a son like _that_?

I studied them for a moment, but my fighting stance never wavered as I scrutinized their faces. There _were_ subtle similarities, now that I thought about it; the same nose, the same chiseled jaw, the same lips, the same eye and hair color, though Chase's hair was of a lighter blonde than the tawny shade of his father.

I narrowed my eyes at Creed and shifted my weight slightly, my nose flaring as I took in a whiff of his pungent odor. Chase's dad was apparently a stranger to deodorant; he smelled like Logan's gym bag after six back-to-back sessions in the Danger Room. I almost gagged, he stank so badly, and I automatically leapt back a half-step as Creed blanched, too.

His lip peeled back in a snarl. "You stink of _Logan,"_ he hissed, before swiveling his great shaggy head in Chase's direction. "And so do you, _boy_," he added, a hint of warning in his tone. "I kin _smell _'im on ya! His scent is still fresh!"

"Calm down, Dad," Chase kept his voice quiet and soothing, and I could see his muscles bulging as he tried to restrain his father from surging forward to attack me. "Let me explain."

"Please do," I added, glaring at him. "And when you're done, I've got a few questions for 'Victor Creed. Why don't you tell me what his _real _name is?'"

Chase deflated somewhat, and I immediately figured out that I'd guessed correctly. I knew an alias when I saw one; I could tell by the way the giant shifted when Chase introduced him that he was _not_ accustomed to be addressed as 'Victor Creed' at all.

"You need to understand, Laura, that my father-"

"Th'name…" Creed interrupted him with a bestial growl, "is _Sabertooth._"

I hesitated for just a moment. Now _that _was a name I'd heard of before, let me tell you. HYDRA had made a habit of keeping up-to-date on the most dangerous mutants, and from what I remembered reading in their files, Sabertooth ranked in the top five deadliest mutants on the planet. My brain buzzed like an oversized hornet's nest as a rush of information flooded into my memory.

_Victor Creed,_ I thought mechanically. _Designation: Sabertooth. Birth date, unknown. Age, unknown. Mutant abilities include retractable claws in his fingertips and enhanced speed, strength and stamina. Expert hand-to-hand combatant, swordsman and sharpshooter, uses his size and girth to great advantage. Former member of the Brotherhood of Mutants and known enemy of the X-Men, as well as…_

I felt my face turn pale. "_You,_" I breathed. "_Now _I remember! He _talked_ about you! You're his enemy! You're _our _enemy!"

Sabertooth let out a bark that I guessed was his version of a laugh, casually slinging a table out of his way and sending through the nearest wall. "Depends on who you're talkin' about, kid. I got lots of enemies."

"I'm talking about _Logan,_" I hissed, spitting onto his shoe to show my contempt.

Sabertooth's eyes strayed to my claws, and I could hear the wheels in his head turning. "You know 'im, then?" he asked, taking a step forward and flexing his claws meaningfully.

Chase darted in between us again. "Dad, please," he said with a hint of pleading in his words. "Control yourself."

Sabertooth glanced down at his son, and for a moment I feared he would tear Chase clean in half for interrupting his latest murder. I recalled that this man, against whom even Logan had fought to a draw, was not someone I'd want to go up against lightly. I had already concluded that his sheer physical mass would allow him to take an impossible amount of punishment before he even _began_ to tire, and even with my healing factor, I knew he could mess me up pretty badly if he slugged me hard enough. His claws may not have been adamantium, but they were long and razor sharp, and could probably slice through most materials and even some of the weaker metals with ease. There was no getting around it, I thought with a grimace. Sabertooth, once engaged in combat, was a _very_ dangerous enemy, and not one to be taken lightly.

"_This _is that girl you've bin yakkin' my ear off about?" Chase's father spat. "She makes my skin crawl, boy!"

"The feeling's mutual," I shot back, before adding boldly, "Especially considering Logan is my father!"

The way Sabertooth's eyes widened, you probably could have used them as dinner plates. "_What?"_ he snarled, but I'll admit that that expression looked kinda surreal when coupled with the bewildered look in his eyes. "You're…Logan's…"

His eyes narrowed into cold slits, and I could _feel_ the hate pouring off of him. "_Even better,"_ he murmured. _"Two birds with one stone!"_

"_NO!"_ Chase yelled, throwing himself to stand in between us, and he glared fiercely at his father as he said challengingly, "I _won't_ let you touch her, Dad! Put those damn claws away and just _let me explain!_ Laura hasn't done _anything;_ there's no need for anyone to get hurt!"

"I beg to differ," I interjected. "I haven't hit something in almost four hours."

Sabertooth's chest heaved in and out as he panted through his mouth like a snarling, rabid dog. "Yer Logan's _kid,_" he said in between breaths. "That's good enough reason t'snuff you right here an' now!"

"Don't condemn Laura for whatever grudge you have against her father," Chase said harshly, only just restraining the now blood-crazed Sabertooth. Apparently Chase was stronger than I thought, if he were able to strong-arm someone as big as _that._ "Because if you do, and you may as well condemn _me, _too! If you and Logan want to keep having at each other, go ahead, but leave _us _out of it!"

"If he attacks Logan," I warned, "That won't be an option for _me_. I won't stand by and let Sabertooth get Logan, and make no mistake, I _will _come to his defense if Sabertooth turns up on the Institute's doorstep. I carve out his throat if I even _think_ he's up to something, and when I'm done with him, he'll _wish _he were in prison!"

Chase gripped the older man's huge forearm. "But he's not going back to prison, are you, Dad?"

Sabertooth let out a cavernous sigh, and, I swear to God, put an enormous hand on Chase's head, though his sour expression didn't change. "I'm not gonna try t'justify myself t'you or anyone else," he said to me. "I do what I want, when I want, t'whoever I choose. But I _will_ tell ya this: I'm _good _at destroying. Animals, objects, people, they're all th'same t'me, kid. An' that's all I ever _was_ good at, too, at least till I got outta prison. An' what's all that breakin' stuff gotten me? Nothin'. Big, fat, _nothin'._ So I'm gonna try playin' it straight fer a while, an' see how _that_ goes. Can't be any worse than bein' Magneto's stooge. That filthy stinkin' turncoat laughed when I got myself caught an' dumped me in jail fer six months! Well, ya know what? That bastard kin go jump off a cliff fer all I care! I'm _done_ with 'im!"

"Speaking of which, how _did_ you get out?" I asked warily. "I thought you'd been given a few life sentences or even the death penalty, and it's impossible to hide from SHIELD for very long."

Sabertooth shrugged. "Nick Fury asked me t'do a favor for 'im. Ya know what I'm talkin' about; he wanted me t'do some of 'is dirty work so SHIELD wouldn't have t'git their hands dirty. Said 'e'd gimme my freedom if I agreed to go along with it, wid a few…provisions."

He lifted up the hem of his large jeans to expose a thick metal anklet with several blinking lights on it as Chase picked up the tale. "SHIELD put that on him to make sure he didn't fall back into his old habits. The device has a remote-activated live-feed miniature video recorder and a GPS tracking system, so they can check in at any time, day or night, to make sure Dad's toeing the line."

"And if he's not?" I couldn't help asking.

Chase's voice turned rather bitter. "Then whoever's monitoring him can activate the anklet and deliver an electric shock big enough to knock an _elephant_ unconscious. Dad would be down for the count before he even knew what had happened."

I had to hand Fury some credit for being cautious, even though I really _did_ hate his guts. "How'd you two meet?" I asked, looking at Sabertooth with a hard scowl. "Chase said you found him after Fury released you from SHIELD's lockup."

"I wrote to him while he was incarcerated, once I knew who my father was," Chase replied. "I eavesdropped on my foster parents one evening and overheard them talking about it. Afterwards, Dad and I arranged to meet face-to-face after he was set free."

Sabertooth's sarcastic grin was filled with wickedly pointed teeth. "Even got me a straight job, too. I never thought I'd see th'day when _I_ punched in for work."

I snorted to hide my astonishment at the fact that Sabertooth's heartbeat stayed steady as he spoke. Christ Almighty, he _was_ telling the truth! I wouldn't have believed it _possible _had I not been there myself! "And you trust him?" I asked carefully.

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life," he said firmly. "Dad isn't the same person anymore, Laura. He's trying to make good of himself now; he has _me._"

I suppose I could have made some smart remark about how futile it was for Chase to try rehabilitating someone like Sabertooth, but considering where _I'd_ come from it would have seemed hypocritical. Besides, as much as I absolutely _hated _ to admit it, the guy actually _did _seem sincere.

_It's still a long shot,_ I replied silently. _Somehow, I just can't see someone like Sabertooth mending his ways so easily. _

_Isn't that exactly what _you're _doing?_The evil little voice in the back of my brain whispered back. _If you __can do it, why not him?_

_He's a terrorist. He killed people._

_So did you. And yet, here you are._

I stuffed my self-doubt into a dark corner of my head for later and instead contented myself by glaring at the both of them with equal intensity.

Sabertooth smiled savagely at me. "You don' believe me, do ya?"

"I haven't decided whether I believe you yet," I told him frostily.

"You _have _to believe him!" Chase yelled, and I flinched involuntary at his unexpected outburst. "He's trying to do better, can't you see that? Did you ever hear me condemning _Logan_ for all the stuff _he's_ done? Oh, yes," he added, nodding at my shocked expression. _"_Dad told me _all_ about the skeletons Logan has in his closet, and you and I both know that your father's past is far from laudable! Everything _my_ father's done is just as bad as the stuff _yours _did, Laura, so don't be so quick to say he's a lost cause!"

I fought the urge to cringe. While my opinion of Chase's father hadn't changed much, I felt like a piece of shit for upsetting him. "Okay, okay," I said hastily, rushing to placate him. The thought of Chase being angry with me was abhorrent for some reason. "I'll…I'll try to keep an open mind, as long as he doesn't…_interfere._ With, you know, _us."_

Sabertooth cursed under his breath, and I'm guessing that that was _exactly_ what he was planning on doing. "I still don' like yer taste in women, boy," he hissed, "I don' approve of it, seein' who yer girlfriend's daddy is. Logan won't think twice about killin' ya if he smells my scent about you; try to keep that in mind."

"I will, Dad," Chase nodded.

"I hate 'er already," Sabertooth muttered, heading for the door. "I'm outta here. An' Chase, don' go bringin' Logan's whelp home, d'ya hear me? Otherwise I might not be so inclined t'restrain myself."

"I'm not scared of you," I snorted.

He paused just before swinging the door open. "_I_ ain't the one you should be scared of," he snickered. "Tell me: how d'ya think yer old man's gonna handle all this, hmm?"

I felt the blood turn to ice in my veins.

_Oh, shit…_

A/N: That's a good question, actually. How WILL Logan take this latest development? Find out in the next chapter! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY IDEAS OR SUGGESTIONS, LET ME KNOW!

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	20. Chapter 20

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 20: Family Feud

_CRASH!_

I ducked my head as a furious Logan picked up a vase from a nearby table and heaved it clear across the room. The expensive porcelain shattered into a million pieces, and I could almost picture his eyes turning red with anger when he whirled around to face me.

Seated in his wheelchair next to me, Xavier gave a calm smile. "I think he's taking it rather well, actually," he commented.

"I thought he'd at _least_ destroy a piece of furniture," I whispered back out of the side of my mouth.

Logan's chest heaved as his lips became flecked with specks of slobber, and he snarled like some kind of rabid animal as he pointed a condemning finger at me. "Yer boyfriend's dad…_is who?"_

"I believe we have both become acquainted with him during the debacle with the Sentinel Program," the Professor replied before I could. "Victor Creed, alias-"

"RRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAUGGGGH!"

Xavier was cut off as Logan let out a full-fledged, bestial roar and ripped a couch in half with nothing more than his bare hands and his brute strength. Cushion stuffing fell onto the carpet as Logan's eyes bulged out of his head. I could probably have counted his retinas if I'd wanted to. "I DON'T _BELIEVE _YOU!" he howled, glaring daggers in my direction. "SPORTIN' ABOUT WITH SABERTOOTH'S KID, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU _THINKIN'?_ YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT COULD'VE HAPPENED IF 'IS BRAT HADN'T STEPPED IN? HE'D HAVE _KILLED_ YA AND MAILED ME YER FINGERS JEST TO SPITE ME!"

"Chase says that he is trying to get his father to reform-" I began, but Logan interrupted me with a derisive sneer.

"Oh, _please,_" he spat. "Don't take me fer a fool, Laura. I've bin fightin' Sabertooth longer than I care t'remember, an' I'll tell ya right now that _that_ one's a lost cause. Killin' and destroyin' are all he lives for! He's one of the _Brotherhood,_ fer Christ's sake? After everythin' he's done, d'ya really expect to _believe_ that bullshit about tryin' t'rehabilitate someone like _that?_ Chase's dad ain't nothin' but pure, concentrated _evil,_ and he _will_ kill the both of ya if he gets a chance!"

"There is always hope for those who are sincere in their desire to do better," The Professor said quietly. "Though Sabertooth may be a bit of a long shot, to say the least."

"Chuck, I ain't in th'mood t'put up with yer insufferable optimism," Logan snarled. "So jest spare me all that talk o' redemption and all that bullshit Creed was tryin' t'feed us. If anyone's beyond redemption, it's him!"

"I want to make it clear that all of this changes nothing," I said, looking him right in the eye to make my challenge clear. "I'm still going to go out with him, Logan, whether you approve or not."

"THE _HELL _YOU ARE!" Logan howled. "I'LL BE _DAMNED _ BEFORE I LET YA GIT WITHIN A MILE OF SABERTOOTH'S WHELP, D'YA HEAR ME? I DON'T CARE IF I HAVE T'LOCK YA UP IN THE DANGER ROOM EVERY DAY, I WILL _NOT_ ALLOW IT!"

"Logan!" The Professor's voice grew sharper. "Calm down! Yelling at the top of your lungs will accomplish nothing!"

"It makes me feel a bit better," Logan replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Maybe so, but I do _not_ want news of this to reach the ears of my other students," Xavier replied. "I do not wish for you to go spreading fear and uncertainty around my school, Logan. It would hardly help anyone if they expected Sabertooth to break the front door down at any minute.

"It wouldn't surprise me if he did," Logan said, before turning a scornful eye on me. "I kin smell th'stink of 'im and 'is brat of a son all over ya! It makes me sick!"

"Shut up," I said, my own voice growing louder. "It's not fair to blame _Chase_ for whatever Sabertooth has done to you! He's…." I faltered for a moment as my cheeks heated up. "He's _nice._ He's _always_ been nice, not just to me but to everyone else, too! He treats me like I'm…_special."_

Logan made a show of rolling his eyes. "Oh, fer Pete's sake," he hissed, exasperation evident in his words. "I ain't budgin' on this, Laura. You ain't allowed to have _anything_ t'do with that…that…_boy,_ d'ya understand me? I don' even want ya in th'same _room _with 'im, an' if I ever git my hands on him I'll throttle him like a goddamn _chicken_ fer lyin' t'me!"

"Did you really expect him to tell you?" Xavier arched an eyebrow. "If Chase were aware of the situation between yourself and Sabertooth, I hardly believe that he'd be foolish enough to mention it. I'm surprised that young Mr. Lancaster has seen fit to tell us at _all_; that he trusts Laura enough to reveal such a secret to her is a sign of how deep the bond between the two of them is becoming."

I felt my cheeks turn pink. "It's not like he had a choice, you know," I muttered to Logan. "Sabertooth found _us,_ not the other way around. He caught me scent and thought I was _you, _so if you're going to blame someone, blame _me_, not Chase."

"I must agree with Laura on this matter," Xavier nodded to the slavering Logan, who was beginning to lose a bit of steam as his adrenaline rush wore off. "It would be unfair and unjust to judge Lancaster for the sins of his father; I have met the boy in person and found him to be a courteous, caring, and chivalrous young man with a good head on his shoulders and an even greater heart. You cannot blame him for reaching out to his father, especially after meeting him after so many years in a foster family. I know _I _would still hold out hope for Sabertooth were I in his position, and I for one applaud him for his compassion in trying to turn his father onto a better path. Who knows, Logan? He might yet succeed."

"Which brings me to the question," Xavier added, turning to me. "Is your young friend a mutant as well?"

I shook my head. "No, he's human. If he were a mutant, I'd be able to tell."

"Then it is likely that his mother was human as well," The Professor stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The possibility of two mutants having a normal, non-mutant child are about one in ten, so unless Chase is skilled at hiding his abilities, we shall proceed on Laura's assumption."

"We ain't _proceedin'_ anywhere," Logan said. "Those two are done, Chuck. _Period_.""

"You can _try _it, Logan," I shot back, silently daring him to go through with his pronouncement.

"I got half a mind t'take ya down to the Danger Room and knock some sense into ya," Logan replied coldly. "This ain't up fer discussion, Small Fry. It's too dangerous fer you to be anywhere _near_ that Lancaster kid."

"I think I can _handle_ danger," I said. "I've fought HYDRA, SHIELD, and the Professor's X-Men and overcome them all! If I can do those things, I think I can handle Sabertooth."

Logan got right up in his face, his claws tickling my chin as he forced my head back. "Sabertooth, _the_ Sabertooth, is unlike anyone _you've_ ever faced b'fore, an' fer yer sake I hope ya never do. He kills fer fun an' pleasure, kid. He hunts innocent people and tears them to pieces just for kicks."

"That's exactly what _you_ did before you escaped Weapon X!" I replied pointedly. "Don't act like you haven't killed before, either, Logan!"

"I got better," Logan said fiercely. "I chose _not_ t'hurt people after I escaped that facility. Sabertooth didn't make that choice. He kills because he wants to, because 'e _likes_ to."

"Regardless," the Professor interjected, "I believe you are allowing your enmity with Sabertooth to impede your judgment. You should realize how unfair it is to blame Chase for the things his father has done, and how even _more_ unjust you are acting in trying to prevent them from seeing each other in the future. I understand that you and Sabertooth have a great many unsettled issues between the two of you and I even sympathize, but that is no reason to have Laura and her young companion suffer for it. If you are not willing to be rational in this regard, I will have no choice but to overrule you, Logan."

I felt my heart leap with a surge of wild, unfettered hope. _Take that,_ I thought with silent glee. Aloud I said, "You met Chase in person, too, Logan. You _know_ that he's a, uh, good person."

I felt face turn pink again. God, even _talking_ about Chase got me all dizzy and stuff. It was almost remarkable that the mere mention of him had such a profound effect on me.

Logan didn't notice. "Give 'im a few years, and I'm sure he'll make his daddy proud," he said snidely. "He's got evil hardwired into 'im, Laura; sooner or later he'll show you 'is bad side."

"SHUT UP!" I yelled.

"Laura, keep your voice down!" Xavier said sharply, and I closed my mouth immediately as he continued, "Now, since neither of you are willing to agree on this issue, I shall decide it for you until such time as you can talk it over without breaking anything. Laura may continue to see Chase, but before she does I would like to have a word with him in private, just to make sure he understands the situation. He seems to have been aware of Logan's feud with his father for some time, but I want to inform him of the risks you are both taking in the event that he's not."

"Knock yourself out," I jerked a thumb toward the window. "He's still in the car."

"_I'll kill him,_" Logan rasped, leaping for the door before the Professor used his telekinetic abilities to slam it shut.

"You most certainly will _not,_" he said, his tone stern. "Laura, please go and invite your friend inside. And Logan, I want you to remain unseen while our guest is here; why don't you go into the kitchen and retrieve a beer from the stash that you keep hidden in the false drawer?"

Logan started, and the Professor's grin was wry. "Really, Logan, I've known about _that_ for over a year. I've just allowed you to keep it because I saw no fault in it, as long as the younger students do not help themselves."

"Fine," Logan muttered sullenly, before glaring at me one last time. "But we ain't done here, Laura."

"Count on it," I said coldly, heading in the opposite direction. I could hear Chase's vehicle idling; apparently he didn't want to leave without knowing where he and I stood with the Professor. He and I both knew that I would have to tell Logan; there's no way he would have missed Sabertooth's scent on me, and trying to hide it would only have made him angrier. It was better, I had told Chase on the way home, to come clean right away and get it out in the open.

I slipped into the passenger's side as Chase glanced worriedly at me. "How'd it go?"

I gave him a pained look, and his face crumpled like a wet Kleenex. "That bad, huh?"'

"Worse," I said. "Logan's so mad he's literally foaming at the mouth."

"What about that Professor guy?" Chase asked. "Is he angry at me, too?"

"Unlike Logan, Baldy took in stride, believe it or not," I shrugged. "I think it takes a lot to surprise the Professor. He wants to talk to you, by the way."

"He wants to talk," Chase repeated, making sure he understood before a nervous look passed over his features. "Why? Is he gonna read my mind or something? I mean, he can do that, right?"

"He can, but he doesn't do it unless you ask him to," I assured him. "Besides, I'll be right outside, so if Logan tries to sneak in there he'll have to get past _me _first_._"

I didn't tell Chase that that was just an excuse to listen in on what the Professor had to say. You may think it was wrong for me to eavesdrop, but where Chase was concerned I was _way_ more than willing to break the rules. If the Professor was going to grill Chase about his father, I wanted to be close by in case he started making him uncomfortable or pressed too hard.

Chase sighed and switched the ignition off, the keys jangling in his hands. "This should be fun," he said dryly, as he and I headed back indoors. "Uh, your dad's not lying in wait for me, is he?"

I didn't miss the frightened glint in his eye. "No, Chuck made him leave until he got a hold of his temper," I said. "Knowing Logan, he'll probably be passed out on the kitchen floor with an empty six-pack in his hands by now."

Chase stared at me.

"It's a coping mechanism for him," I explained. "Besides, while he's unconscious, he can't come after _you."_

"Good point," Chase said nervously, hesitating a moment before knocking on Xavier's office door. His knuckles rapped sharply on the varnished wood, and the entrance opened by itself in a scene reminiscent of a horror movie as Chase stepped inside.

I caught a glimpse of the Professor rolling out from behind his desk. "Ah, Mr. Lancaster," he said, his tone warm. "Good to see you again. Please, have a seat so we can talk."

I heard Chase's weight sinking into the chair Xavier had offered him as he continued, "I understand that there have been some…_revelations_ this evening that warrant some concern for all of us. Laura has told me who dropped in on the two of you earlier this evening, but I wanted to hear it from _you_, as well."

"Erm…" Chase was silent for a moment, presumably collecting his thoughts. "Well, I started writing to Dad while he was in prison. I didn't think he'd ever get out, but he told me that an agency called SHIELD gave him his freedom in exchange for a favor."

"And what favor was that?" Xavier sounded interested.

"He didn't say, and I got the feeling that he either couldn't or wouldn't tell me," Chase shrugged. "I think it was probably some top-secret, hush-hush kind of stuff. Anyway, SHIELD put a special anklet on him that they can use to make sure he's toeing the line; if he falls back into his old ways, they can use the device to deliver an electric shock that will instantly knock him unconscious. If that happens, Dad would wake up to find himself in a prison cell."

"And is your father serious about reforming?" Xavier inquired, his gaze intense. "Forgive me for saying so, but he doesn't strike me as the type to make that decision so suddenly."

"He's getting there," I could tell that Chase was choosing his words carefully. "I convinced him to try it after SHIELD let him out of prison, but I'll admit that it took a while to talk him around. He didn't want to at first, I'll admit, and I spent the better part of a month trying to persuade him. He finally agreed in his last letter before I met him in person, and we've been working to get him back on his feet since then. I guess you could say that we're taking baby steps; Dad doesn't do well in human society. His people skills _suck_, but I managed to convince a friend of my foster father's, a guy who owns a lumber yard, to give Dad a job at his facility. Dad used an alias, of course, but I think that having a regular nine-to-five job is a big step for him."

"You've had remarkable success so far, it seems," the Professor conceded. "Certainly more than _I _would have hoped for."

"I still have a long way to go before he's rehabilitated completely," Chase sighed. "It didn't take long for me to figure out that Dad is very bitter towards non-mutants. He's having a hard time letting go of that."

"Then you must work with him and help him to do so."

"I already am."

I heard Xavier lean forward and plant his elbows on his desk. "Do you think it will work?" he asked softly. "Do you truly believe that your father can be turned onto a better path?"

"Yes," Chase's tone was like a hammer striking an anvil. "I will _not_ abandon him, Professor Xavier. He is my father. I am his son. That's all I need to know. Whatever he did in the past isn't as important as what he does in the future." I heard Chase's voice crack as he added, "I...I _know_ there's still good in him Professor. I just need to make _Dad _believe it, too.""

"That is _exactly_ what I wanted to hear," Xavier smiled, and I heard his wheelchair coming closer as he went to show Chase out. "You are quite an extraordinary young man, Mr. Lancaster."

I could almost see Chase's uncomfortable expression. "I'm just trying to help, that's all," he muttered.

The door opened, and I took several steps back to appear as though I hadn't been listening in. The Professor smiled knowingly at me but said nothing; I'm not sure if he knew all along that I'd been eavesdropping or if he were just being friendly.

I followed Chase down the hall as he went to leave the Institute, and I grabbed his hand possessively.

"Look," I said, feeling heat rise in my cheeks for the umpteenth time. "Regardless of everything that's happened…I had a really good time tonight."

Chase brushed a stray strand of hair away from my eyes. "Me, too," he said softly, putting his arms around me and drawing me close. I felt slightly intoxicated as his heart beat in tandem with mine; my face grew so hot that I thought I was coming down with some kind of fever.

I felt my hands pressing against his chest, almost as though he were a firm, strong tree that I could lean on for support. His scent was strong, but not unpleasantly so, and its effect on me was not unlike the effects of certain illegal narcotic and hallucinogenic products. I _felt_ my eyes glaze over when he started running his fingers through my hair-_God, I loved it when he did that-_and my knees threatened to buckle as the blood turned to fiery lava in my veins. My ears rang, my vision became distorted, and for that one moment all I could think about was _him._

I felt Chase rest his head on my shoulder and, with a curious lack of the self-consciousness or insecurity that I'd expected to feel in this kind of situation, I waited until my lips were close to his ear and whispered, "Chase?"

"Yeah?"

I tried (and probably failed) not to appear as nervous or uncertain as I felt; I was so nervous that for a minute I almost felt a little nauseated. But I took a deep, cleansing breath through my nose, gathered up my nerve and looked him right in the eye. I wanted him to _see _ that I _meant_ what I was going to say next.

"Kiss me."

He needed no further encouragement, and he pressed his lips against mine so fast that I could tell how badly he had wanted this. I almost passed out as a wave of sheer pleasure rolled over my entire body, my hands snaking around his neck as Chase drew me in closer and closer, and every cell of my being began to sing a joyous song as affection for _him, _and only _him,_ made my heart beat so fast that I feared it would burst. It was such a _powerful,_ _wonderful _and utterly _addictive _feeling, almost like being raised to the power of _infinity,_ and I'd never felt so marvelously, gloriously _alive_ as I did in that one, shining moment. Affection for Chase filled my every pore as my entire world shrank until it only included _him;_ all my sufferings, all the torment I'd endured while in HYDRA's captivity…Chase was the light at the end of that dark tunnel, and if I'd known he were waiting for me, I would have come to Xavier's years ago. I realized at last that Chase was the only person in the world for me; Kitty and Rogue went through dating partners like pairs of clothes, but Chase…

Being with him made me feel as though a missing piece of myself had been restored, like a gigantic hole in my chest that had been empty for so many years had at last been filled in. I felt my eyes roll back into my head. I didn't _ever_ want this moment to end, and I didn't give a damn if Logan had walked in on us right then and there.

Chase's voice was hoarse with emotion as he whispered in my ear. "I was hoping you'd ask," he admitted, his voice cracking again.

"_One_ of use had to take the initiative," I said, giving him a tiny smile. That was a something significant in and of itself, by the way, because I'd hardly ever smiled until Chase had come along."Though I think I could probably use a little more practice…"

A/N: YES! About time they got around to that, I'd say! XD I just hope Logan comes to his sense though…who knows what he might have planned? Will he come to trust Chase eventually? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW!

On a different note, however, I wish to address several inquiries I have received concerning Laura and Chase. It seems that some of you are concerned that Logan and Sabertooth are brothers and that may complicated Laura and Chase's relationship. I wish to assure you that your concerns, though well-meaning, are not substantiated. That their respective fathers are brothers is only one theory that is offered for Wolverine and Sabertooth's back-story; another well-known theory that has been postulated over the years as to the root of their feud that establishes that the two aren't relations, but rather former close friends, and it is on this assumption that I shall be proceeding.

I apologize for the confusion and hope this helps. ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	21. Chapter 21

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 21: Prologue- Quickening, Part 1

Chase pulled away reluctantly, his eyes tender. "I need to be heading home," he murmured in my ear. "See you tomorrow?"

"Count on it," I said, kissing the tip of his nose affectionately. "Are you sure you can't stay a little longer?"

"My foster mom gets worried if I'm not back by ten," Chase said ruefully, digging the car keys out of his pocket and giving me one last squeeze. "Wish I could, though."

"So do I," I murmured, blushing. "See you at school, Chase."

"I'm counting down the hours," he grinned back.

The door shut in his wake with a loud click, and after I was sure the reverberations of Chase's car engine had faded into the night, I said loudly, "You can come out now. I know you're there."

Kitty promptly slammed into me like a sumo wrestler and grabbed me in a bone-crushing hug as she let out a squeal. "Oh, my God! You kissed him!"

"I know."

"And he kissed _you!"_

"I'm aware of that," I said irritably, rounding on her. "What I don't like is that _you_ decided to spy on us."

"I just wanted to see how things were going with you two," Kitty said sheepishly. "And it's not like you'd tell me if I just went and _asked."_

She was right, dammit. "Well, now you know," I said, shrugging noncommittally."Satisfied?"

"Say it," Kitty grinned.

"Say _what,_ exactly?"

"That I was right," Kitty's expression was smug. "That deciding to date Chase was the best thing you ever did. That you're starting to like _him_ as much as he likes _you._"

"I'm not giving you that satisfaction," I told her grumpily.

"But it's still true," Kitty pressed. "You're welcome, by the way. If I hadn't blackmailed you into talking to him in the first place, none of this would have happened."

_Son of a bitch, I hadn't even thought of that,_ I swore silently. "I'm still not going to say it," I replied aloud with a stubborn expression.

"Why not, Laura?" Kitty looked downright crestfallen.

"Because I'm disagreeable that way," I said matter-of-factly, turning to leave. "But even so…"

I stopped in mid-step. "Thank you, Kitty," I conceded at last.

She grinned in response, but I didn't acknowledge it. I'd already come as close as I could to admitting that I was wrong.

Leaving her standing in the hall, I headed toward the kitchen for a snack. I hadn't gotten to eat anything at the restaurant Chase had take me to due to his father's sudden appearance, and my stomach was starting to let me know in no uncertain terms that it was running on fumes, so to speak.

I smelled Logan before I saw him. He _reeked_ of beer so badly that I was tempted to cover my nose.

He sat hunched over the kitchen table, a pair of empty six-packs by his feet and an assortment of drained metal cans within reach of his arms. Logan opened another with swift, choppy movements that hinted at how angry he was, and I observed him for a few moments before speaking.

"That won't work," I said flatly. "Your healing factor prevents you from becoming intoxicated, Logan."

"Doesn't mean I can't try," he muttered back. "Whaddaya want, Small Fry?"

"I _was_ going to see how you were holding up," I said, shifting uncomfortably. It was true; now that I thought about it, I _had_ been rather concerned about how Logan would cope with being overruled by the Professor earlier. Logan was _not_ the type of person to take being beaten at _anything_ gracefully. "But seeing as how your anger doesn't seem to have died down, I think I will leave until you get a hold of your temper."

"No," Logan's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. "Have a seat, squirt."

"You're not going to throw any of those cans at me, are you?" I asked warily, taking a seat opposite him.

"Oh, _please. _If I was goin' to throw somethin' at ya, I'd use somethin' heavier than a beer can," Logan snorted, a bitter smile on his face.

"Glad to see you've retained your sparkling sense of humor," I snarked back.

"_What _sense o' humor?" Logan gave a short bark of something that may have been laughter.

I gave a small grin in spite of myself, but said nothing. The silence became rather uncomfortable as I waited for him to continue, but since Logan didn't seem to have any intention of speaking further, I decided to take the initiative.

"So…What now?" I asked slowly, my tone cautious.

"Whaddaya mean, 'what now?'" Logan growled.

"What happens next?" I clarified. "Are you going to support me in dating Chase, or do we keep fighting about it? Are you going to let your feud with Sabertooth get the better of you?"

Logan's throat bobbed as he slugged down his beer and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "I think yer boyfriend's got good intentions," he said, "but I still think Creed's a lost cause. You don't know 'im like I do; he's bad right down to 'is bone marrow. _But,_" he added, "as long as the kid keeps his daddy away from _you_, he and I shouldn't have any problems. I mean it, Laura," he added. "I don't want ya within seein' distance of Sabertooth, got it? You can spend yer time with Chase all ya want, but don't even go anywhere _near_ Victor Creed. He may not be as understandin' as I am."

Frankly, I thought Logan wasn't very understanding at all, but he did have point; if _Logan_ thought he was taking it well, I could only _imagine_ how Sabertooth was going to react when Chase visited him again. It would take all the persuasion Chase could muster to calm his father down, I knew, and if he didn't there was a good chance that Sabertooth would come after me.

I clenched my fist. _Let him come,_ I thought fiercely. _I'm not scared of __him._

A/N: Yes, I know it's a REALLY short chapter, but like the title says, it's really just a prologue for what's coming next. I tried to make it as long as I could, but I fear there's only so much I can do without using too much pointless filler. Please be patient, my friends; the next chapter will be up in good time! ^^

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	22. Chapter 22

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 22: Quickening, Part Two

I had no way of knowing it at the time, but as I struggled with my ever-growing feelings for Chase in the aftermath of that extraordinary kiss, Victor Creed, Chase's dad, was having more than a few problems of his own. Even as Chase assured the Professor and Logan (especially Logan, who was more reluctant to accept Sabertooth's change of heart than anyone else), Creed was adapting to living an honest life about as well as a fish adapts to living in a desert.

Frankly, the thought of _anyone _hiring the notorious Sabertooth as an employee sounded ludicrous, but I was to later learn that, possibly for the first time in years, his father hadn't been lying when he'd mentioned getting a "straight job." That job, I would come to find out, was one of a labor foreman at a local lumber yard.

Sabertooth, to his credit, took to his role with relish. He worked his men like a slave driver, barking and yelling out orders from on top of a high stack of plywood. His voice grated like broken glass scraping across velvet, always exhorting the other workers to ever-greater efforts and feats of strength. If someone stopped for a drink of water, he punted him in the rear with the steel toe of his work boot and forced the man back to work. Creed's naturally foul temper and inbred contempt for the needs of others made him a natural-born overseer; no matter what Chase said, I still privately believed that Sabertooth's tendency to laugh at the suffering of others made this job the sort of thing he enjoyed. Under Creed's merciless watch, the lumber yard taking productivity to extraordinary levels at the expense of the men employed there. Not a single guy went home without an aching back or sore muscles once Sabertooth had been hired, and I have to admit that I found myself feeling a little sorry for them.

After all, Victor Creed was the only guy I'd ever met whose performance as a harsh taskmaster could rival Logan's. At least Logan had the sense to know when you'd reached your limit, but Sabertooth didn't afford his underlings the same courtesy.

Another thing that made the lumber yard the perfect place for Sabertooth's "reformation" was the fact that the job itself wasn't really all that complicated. Creed's job mostly entailed bringing a heavy piece of wood from one spot to the other, and since he wasn't exactly a rocket scientist, that kind of occupation was perfect for him: it uncomplicated, simple, and easy to remember. Sabertooth's enhanced strength and physical endurance made him a natural workhouse, too. When he wasn't running his quasi-chain-gang, he enjoyed showing off to the other workers. Creed loved to watch their stunned expressions as he lifted far more than any normal man could carry with startling ease. And he always thought it was just an absolute _hoot_ whenever he "accidentally" smacked someone in the face while lugging a two-by-four from one spot to the next.

What a dick.

I wish I could have been there to see Sabertooth's face when Chase went to visit him during his lunch break that day. Perhaps he was surprised, maybe even _happy_ to see his son show up at the lumber depot. It sounds ludicrous even as I write it down, of course. Logan doubted, as I did, that Sabertooth possessed the emotional capacity to show any other emotion other than anger. Like my progenitor, I knew that it was from his bestial rage that Sabertooth drew his strength, and it was through his contempt and hate for the humans that this man, who had once been Logan's closest friend, had become the creature he was today. Victor Creed's capacity to be redeemed still remained an open question to everyone at the Institute, and I knew damn well that the Professor hadn't been the only one to behave warily at the revelation of Chase's bloodline.

But despite all of that, I knew that, ultimately, Sabertooth's capacity to make good of himself rested with him and him alone. Only _he_ could turn himself around, as Logan had done, as I was doing. Chase couldn't make that decision for his father, no matter how much he might like to. The ball was in Victor Creed's court now.

But would he swing at it?

Sabertooth must have smelled like a moldy old pair of gym socks by the time Chase made his surprise visit. His shirt, I was told, was stained on the back, front and beneath the arms with perspiration, the fabric stiff with dried sweat, and his long, dirty-blonde locks hung about his head like a myriad of writhing snakes, almost like those of a gorgon. Creed's palms were callused, scratched and skinned from gripping the rough planks and boards all day, and more than one splinter had been lodged in his flesh. I didn't envy him _that;_ it would be a _bitch_ to pry all of those little slivers out with tweezers once Sabertooth got off work.

The massive ex-terrorist let out a bestial grunt as he cleanly sliced a large stack of cedar logs into quarters. The rotary saw that he held in his hands made him look for all the world like someone out of a slasher flick, and now that I think about it, I gotta question the wisdom of Sabertooth's employer. I mean, do you really wanna give a high-powered, razor-edged cutting tool to someone like _that?_

I know _I_ would have kept him _far_ away from the heavy machinery if _I_ were in charge.

The shrill, buzzing whine of the power tool faded into nothingness as Sabertooth yanked the plug from its socket, which was good, because that meant that Chase didn't have to yell at the top of his lungs to get his father's attention.

"Hi, Dad," he said, sidling up to his father's shoulder. "How's work?"

Sabertooth glared at him. "Aincha supposed t'be in school or somethin'?"

"They let us out early," Chase shrugged. "Administrative meeting, or something like that. Anyway, I couldn't walk Laura home because Logan came to pick her up, so I thought I'd come by and see how you were."

Sabertooth bristled at the mention of his sworn enemy's name. "Hope ya like ham and cheese," he grunted, cracking what could have been a smile if it had been on anyone else's face. "Cuz that's all I've got, kid."

"Not to worry," Chase's mouth split into a smile as he held up a pair of paper bags emblazoned with the McDonald's logo. "I came prepared."

Sabertooth snatched one of the parcels and shredded it with his claws. "I'm glad ya did," he muttered, which I guess was his way of expressing thanks. "Sandwiches git old after a while."

Chase took a seat on a nearby lumber horse. "So how are things here?"

Creed laughed callously. "This lot had grown lazy afore I came along, but I'm showin' 'em some _real_ work. They'll learn to jump to it when they punch in every mornin', let me tell ya. All they need is a good boot up the ass from time t'time so's I kin keep 'em on track."

"You got promoted?" Chase stared. "Already?"

"Only cuz th'guy who held the job afore me quit last week," Sabertooth grinned a predator's toothy smile. "Guess he couldn't stomach me, just like Logan's brat what's-her-face." His expression turned dark. "She reeks o' him, ya know. Logan's stink is so thick on her that I could smell her sixty miles away if I had to. I imagine Logan will come lookin' fer me once he finds out th'truth."

He paused and watched his fingernails grow into claws, which he then used to slice a nearby board in half. "An' when 'e does, I intend to meet 'im head-on."

Chase laid a gentle hand on Creed's shoulder. "Dad…" he began, choosing his words carefully, "I know that your feud with Laura's father isn't something you're going to let go of anytime soon, but please, at least _try _not to get into a fight with Logan just for the sake of violence. You and he have been doing that runaround of yours for years, and what's it accomplished? Look at it objectively: both of you still hate each other as much as you other did, and given that you are both so evenly matched, it's unlikely that either of you will succeed in defeating the other."

"That don't matter," Sabertooth growled. "I ain't goin' t'git all chummy with _him_ just because you and his girl are goin' at it like rabbits. I'll do my best to avoid 'im, if that's whatcha want, but if I see 'im come anywhere _near_ either of us, all bets are off."

Chase turned a fiery shade of vermillion. "D-Dad!" he exclaimed. "That's not…_We're _not…"

Creed cast a jaundiced eye at him. "Ya mean when ya took her home th'other night, ya just let 'er _go_? Christ Almighty, boy, she was practically _throwin'_ herself at ya."

His son turned an even deeper red, if that were possible. "I don't want to do anything that I-that _we-_might regret," he said, after sputtering a moment. "I don't want to jeopardize what I have with Laura for the sake of self-satisfaction. I'm not that kind of person."

Sabertooth looked up at the sky, as if seeking patience there. "Yer loss, kid," he grunted, slurping his soda and devouring his triple-decker Big Mac in a single, massive bite. "I'm surprised ya even made it back from Logan's place in one piece. Th'Wolverine _I_ knew woulda taken yer head off when 'e found out about, uh, _me._"

"I won't lie," Chase gave an enormous sigh. "Logan actually came _very _close to ripping me in half at first. Laura actually made me wait outside because she was concerned that I would get hurt. I was told he took the news very badly when Laura told him; I could hear him yelling and ranting even as I sat in the car. I think the Professor made him leave before he had Laura come and get me; what happened to Logan after that, I have no idea."

"The _Professor_, " Creed sneered. "That smarmy, goody-two-shoes cue-ball. He thinks all problems can be solved with talkin'."

"And _you_ think all problems can be solved with fighting," Chase pointed out.

"It's worked well fer _me,_" Sabertooth muttered sullenly.

"Well, look at it this way," Chase handed him a French fry. "If nothing else, turning over a new leaf will give you a way to see things from Xavier's perspective."

Creed gave him a disgusted look. "Don't even joke like that," he growled. "I may be done with Magneto, but I ain't got any intention of bein' a Boy Scout, Chase."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Chase said lightly, wiping mustard off of his fingers as the shrill sound of a whistle echoed through the lumber yard. "And it looks like break time's over, Dad."

"Yeah, it does," Sabertooth grunted, standing up and stretching before shuffling uncomfortably for a moment. "Uh, thanks fer comin' t'see me," he said, his voice rising and falling curiously in pitch, as though the words were those of a foreign tongue. "It was..."

"Nice?" Chase finished gently.

"Yeah," Sabertooth looked away. "Best be makin' yerself scarce now, boy, b'fore th'boss sees ya. Kids ain't allowed in here when the machinery's on."

"I'll make a note of it," Chase said, giving him a quick hug and dashing off. "See ya later!"

Sabertooth stiffened like a ramrod at the unexpected human contact, completely pole-axed with shock as his mouth hung open. I dearly wish Chase could have taken a picture of his father at that moment, for the image would have been so hilarious that I would have framed it and hung in my bedroom.

Then, something snapped Sabertooth into awareness. His nose twitched almost like that of a rabbit, and the growl in his throat turned into a full-fledged, bass-toned roar as he whirled to face the elderly-looking gentleman who suddenly appeared in the middle of the lumber depot's parking lot.

The man rolled up the hem of his sleeve to check his watch, and for a moment, Sabertooth could see the telltale series of numbers that had been inked into the old guy's skin over sixty years ago.

"Confounded thing has stopped working again," he muttered, before appearing to notice Creed for the first time. His cordial expression darkened somewhat as he looked Sabertooth right in the eye.

"Hello, Victor," Magneto said quietly, and I guess Sabertooth knew instantly that his former master had seen everything that had transpired. "Is this a bad time?"

A/N: Uh, oh! Well, THAT'S not good! But even so, I felt that the relationship between Chase and his father was something we hadn't really seen first-hand, and the story needed a bit more depth in that regard, at least in my opinion. XD But what does Magneto want? Will he undermine Chase's efforts to redeem his father? How will all of this affect Laura? Find out in coming chapters! ^^ And PLEASE review! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! ^^

And once again, I apologize for the really short chapter last time. To be honest, I _do_ feel more than a little guilty about that…*bows head* Please forgive me.

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	23. Chapter 23

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 23: Quickening, Part Three

_Moments ago…_

I can only imagine the look of disdain on the face of Sabertooth's old boss as he glanced around the lumber yard. Magneto, so I was told, had discarded his signature costume for civilian clothing, keeping only his helmet on beneath the hood of his jacket so as not to attract unwanted attention.

"So this is how you spend your days now, doing menial labor for minimum wage?" he asked, clucking in disapproval. "I'm disappointed in you, Victor. The Sabertooth _I_ knew would never have stooped so low as _this._"

"Get outta here," Sabertooth snarled, his claws sprouting out from behind his cuticles. "An' take yer fancy talk with ya."

"There's no need to be rude, Victor," Magneto replied. "I simply came here to talk."

"I got nothin' to say to you," Sabertooth replied coldly. "Fuck off."

"That's no way to speak to an old friend," Magneto pointed out, a ripple of anger flashing across his face.

"_Friend?"_Sabertooth laughed coldly. "You left me t'rot in Nick Fury's cage without a second thought, an' ya have the _nerve_ t'call me yer _friend?_ If'n that's how ya treat yer friends, I think I'd rather be yer enemy." Creed's voice rose as he continued, "D'you have _any idea_ what it was like fer me durin' those years? Locked up like a beast in a zoo while Fury and 'is goons made sport o' me! I ain't _never_ forgiven you fer leavin' me high an' dry like that, especially after I stayed on with yer fan club after the Sentinel thing last year! I served you faithfully, Magneto, an' unlike you, _I was loyal. _An' in return you left me t'die on in a prison cell!"

"I never intended to abandon you," Magneto said coolly. "I was merely waiting for the right…_opportunity_ to secure your freedom."

"Bullshit," Sabertooth hissed. "I'm done believin' anything that comes outta _your_ mouth."

"Then you will not believe me when I say that it would be in your best interests, _and your son's_, if you were to rejoin the Brotherhood," Magneto said, stepping in close to look Sabertooth right in the eye as he enunciated each word clearly. "After all, it would be _such a shame_ for the boy to meet with a tragic accident at such a tender age, wouldn't you agree?"

Sabertooth's eyes flashed with fury. "Leave him be," he said, a roar rising in his throat. "Chase has nothin' to do with any of this!"

"You really _have_ sunk to a new low, caring for the well-being of a mere _human,_" Magneto said scornfully. "Whether he was begotten by you or not matters little; Chase will renounce you eventually, as all humans reject and hate our kind. Who will you turn to once your son sees you for what you are? Do you really expect _anyone_ to believe that you intend to leave the Brotherhood behind you? Are you so foolish and stupid that you think you can wash your hands of the blood that stains them? _You are a killer, Victor Creed, a cold-blooded criminal, and you always will be."_

"I extend to you the offer to rejoin our ranks and return to helping our cause," he finished. "Refuse, and I will kill you."

"Better men than you have tried," Sabertooth sneered back. "If Logan ain't been able to kill me after all this time, what makes _you_ think you can? I can heal faster than you kin hurt me, Magneto, an' you and the rest o' yer so-called Brotherhood kin all drop dead as far as _I'm_ concerned. I ain't gonna be yer stooge anymore."

Magneto sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that," he admitted, his tone genuinely apologetic. "But if that's your position, then you leave me little alternative."

He stretched out his arm suddenly, and a nearby pile of steel girders seemed to come to life as Magneto lifted them into the air with an almost bored expression. It took so little effort for him to accomplish this feat that he might as well have been swatting a fly.

Sabertooth roared in surprise and anger and whirled around to face the oncoming threat, but it was already too late. I am almost sure that Magneto chose to accost his former minion at the lumber and construction supply yard because there was plenty of metal lying around the place for him to bend to his will.

And bend the steel did, with an awful scraping, screeching sound that made anyone within hearing distance clap their hands to the sides of their heads. Sabertooth lunged at Magneto, claws bared, but his attack was halted as the creaking, groaning, shrieking pieces of dull-grey metal wrapped around his body like an enormous cocoon.

The fight was over before it had even started.

Sabertooth thrashed and struggled like a bear caught in a trap, but even his enhanced strength wasn't enough to free him from his makeshift prison. Magneto's face showed nothing but detached boredom as he whirled Chase's father around with a flick of his wrist.

"And by the way," he added, his eyes boring into Sabertooth's with an unblinking stare of pure menace. "I have no intention of killing you, Victor. Think what a waste that would be; you might yet be of use to us, after all. Though it seems you might require a bit of _persuasion_ before you consent to rejoin the Brotherhood's ranks…."

Magneto's voice dropped to a whisper. "…And you'd be surprised at what you can live through."

The terrorist leader turned to leave, but not before casting a haughty glance over his shoulder at the crowd of humans who'd been staring at him for the past few moments. A cruel smile split Magneto's lips as he spied the large chainsaw that Sabertooth had left behind, and with their backs turned, the onlookers didn't see the power tool rise into the air.

"You humans are so convinced of your own superiority," he said, switching the chainsaw on. "I believe it is high time that someone _cut you down to size…"_

The machine whizzed through the air, and the dull-brown stacks of lumber were splashed with a wave of red.

From the front seat of his car, Chase Lancaster's jaw dropped open in horror before he pressed the accelerator and swerved onto the highway…

_Now…_

Despite the fact that he the walls of the Xavier Institute afforded no small measure of security and protection, Chase's entire body was still trembling as he finished telling what had befallen his father. Xavier, seated at his desk and flanked by the X-Men's senior members, may as well have been a statue carved from marble for all his lack of emotion, either sympathetic or otherwise. His face was as blank as a magnetized compact-disc as a total, oppressive silence enveloped everyone who'd been privy to Chase's account, and I, seated in a chair next to him, reached out and placed my hand in his in a silent gesture of assurance and support.

Normally I would have been embarrassed about doing that kind of thing in front of other people, but Chase was so rattled and despondent by what had happened that I found myself lacking any semblance of self-consciousness.

The quiet, which was as thick and uncomfortable as lying under a woolen blanket on a hot day, was broken when Xavier finally spoke. "And you're sure of this?" he asked quietly.

Chase, apparently still in shock and unable to form coherent sentences, nodded mutely.

"This is unexpected," Xavier murmured. "And unfortunate. I should have guessed that Magneto would not let go of such a valued underling that easily, but this is the first we've seen of him since that business with Apocalypse last summer. I was on the verge of hoping that the experience had encouraged Erik to mend his ways, but I can see now that I was wrong to get my hopes up."

"I don't see how this concerns _us,_" Cyclops shrugged, and I felt the urge to slug him. "Sabertooth is no friend of ours, and vice versa. Why should we risk _our _necks to save someone like _him_? That's what you're asking, isn't it?" he added, glancing at Chase. "You wouldn't have come here unless you wanted to ask for our help."

He didn't respond, but to be honest, he didn't need to. It had been obvious from the beginning why Chase's first instinct after witnessing his father's abduction had been to hightail to Xavier's, and I thought no less of him for it.

"Everyone deserves a second chance at life, even Sabertooth," Xavier's words were gentle, but firm. "That he has already made an effort to do so is proof of how enormous an impact his relationship with Chase has had upon him. Sabertooth now has a chance to _choose _the right path; we cannot, in good conscience, let that decision be taken away from him. To allow such a thing to happen would be nothing less than betraying everything the X-Men stand for."

Logan, leaning against the far wall, clenched his fists so tightly that I heard his adamantium-covered joints creak. "I don't _believe_ this," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "First Laura dates Creed's kid, an' now we're supposed t'go an' _rescue_ the bastard."

"We are all aware of your thoughts on the matter, Logan," Xavier said sharply. "But even so, my decision stands." Turning Cyclops and the others, he said, "I want the X-Jet ready for takeoff immediately. We leave within the hour."

"Do you even know where Magneto _is?_" Logan asked skeptically.

The corners of Xavier's mouth twitched. "If I know Erik, and I do, then I have a few suspicions. But we cannot say for certain if he is acting on his own or if he truly is leading another incarnation of the Brotherhood. For this reason, we will need all the strength we can muster. We'll divide into teams once we reach our destination: Cyclops, I want you, Iceman, Sunspot and Storm to lead the main assault and divert Magneto's attention long enough for Jean, Wolverine, Laura and Nightcrawler to infiltrate whatever hideout the Brotherhood is using. Once you have Sabertooth freed, you are to teleport back to the X-Jet _immediately;_ if you encounter any opposition, do _not_ engage them. This is a retrieval mission, not an attack. When you've made it out and have the jet on standby, Jean will contact the rest of the team via her telepathy, and we will rendezvous with you shortly thereafter. I postulate that this operation should not take more than fifteen to twenty minutes; any longer and the safety of Chase's father may be compromised. Understood?"

There were murmurs of assent all around, except from Logan and myself. I wasn't much of a talker, anyway, and Logan was too busy sulking to do anything else at the moment.

"Then we have already spent too much time here," Xavier nodded, rolling out from behind his expensive-looking desk and putting a comforting hand on Chase's shoulder.

"We _will_ save your father," he murmured, his words surprisingly strong despite his soft voice. "You have my word."

I stood up and unsheathed my claws, my heart beginning to speed up as the scent of imminent battle reached my nostrils.

"Words are cheap."

A/N: And so the climax of the story begins! But will our heroes reach Sabertooth in time? Will Magneto destroy Sabertooth's chance at redemption? Find out in coming chapters! And PLEASE REVIEW! If you have ANY ideas or suggestions, LET ME KNOW! ^^

I do want to give you all a little heads-up that the next chapter might take a bit longer to post due to all the things I plan to include in it. Please give me your patience and allow me sufficient time to make this fight a memorable one (and yes, there WILL be a fight scene, if not several). Remember, good things come to those who wait! XD

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	24. Chapter 24

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

Chapter 24: Rescue

_Prologue_

_One hour ago…_

In the confines of the X-Jet, I resisted the urge to plug my ears as Cyclops and Jean, seated in the cockpit, fired up the aircraft's afterburners with an almost unbearable shrieking sound. It didn't seem to bother anyone else, but when your sense of hearing is as acute as mine, you start considering carrying earplugs in your pocket just for the sake of convenience.

Iceman, seated next to Shadowcat in the row across from me, flashed me a grin as the Blackbird began to lift off. "Please fasten your seat belts and put your seats and tray tables in the proper upright-"

"Shut up, Bobby," I snapped.

"I've met rocks with more sense of humor than you," he muttered, apparently somewhat put-out that he hadn't been able to finish his stale and moldy joke.

"And yet those rocks are still smarter than _you,_" I snarked back.

Iceman opened his mouth to reply and promptly closed it when he noticed the dangerous light in my eyes. I will freely admit that after learning what had befallen Chase's father, I was in such a violent mindset that I was practically _itching_ to kill something. I closed my eyes briefly and imagined ripping Bobby's head right off of his shoulders just to shut him up, which, under normal circumstances, may have been disturbing… But where Iceman was concerned I had no doubt that _everyone_ at the Institute had entertained that fantasy at least once at one time or another. Hell, Logan probably imagined tearing Bobby in half at least three times a day.

As we gained altitude and the Xavier Institute became progressively smaller, I found my mind drifting away from Bobby's imagined demise and leaning, as it seemed increasingly prone to do, on Chase. To say that he had been devastated by his father's abduction would have been an understatement of such enormous magnitude that it would border on the imbecilic. Chase had crumpled like an empty beer can in Logan's fist as he'd told us what Magneto had done; the cheerful and magnanimous aura of his which I'd come to adore had dissipated like smoke on a windy day. He withdrew inside of himself, talking little and eating even less, and when he did open his mouth to speak he did it almost exclusively to me. I had never seen Chase Lancaster so downtrodden before; I could feel my heart _ache_ with a sharp, physical pain every time I looked at him.

I had half-expected Chase to insist on coming along with us to rescue Sabertooth (no matter how many times I say it, it _still_ sounds laughably ridiculous), but now that I think about it, he was in no shape to fight _anyone_. And that was assuming that Chase even knew _how_ to fight, which, considering what I'd seen of his personality, seemed about as likely as finding an honest politician in Congress.

The continental United States gave way to a great expanse of seemingly endless ocean, and I narrowed my eyes dangerously as I slowly unsheathed my claws.

I won't deny that Sabertooth was _not_ one of my favorite people; I'd only met him the other night and I already detested him. He was a brutish, callous and mean piece of work who'd taken more lives than Rambo and the Terminator combined. Victor Creed was as bad as they came, and if the path to his redemption was a race, he'd better start training for a freaking _marathon. _But my personal opinion hadn't been taken into consideration when Xavier had had the idea of contacting SHIELD to see if they would lend their assistance in rescuing Chase's father. It was a sound idea, in theory, seeing as how they're the ones who put that anklet gizmo on him in the first place, but even though Nick Fury had claimed to be busy with more world-threatening matters, I wasn't the only one who'd had a hunch that that one-eyed bastard didn't really give a damn about what might happen to Sabertooth. Creed had long since done any particularly nasty or disreputable wet-work that SHIELD had had on its agenda and consequently he was of no further use to them. And considering this is _Fury _we're talking about, I wouldn't be at all surprised if he was perfectly content to let Magneto tie up that loose end _for _him. Chase's father must have learned some pretty sensitive stuff while working as SHIELD'S pet monster, after all, and now that he was no longer in their employ, Fury and his goons probably considered Sabertooth to be a dangerous liability rather than an asset.

As if I didn't need another reason to hate Fury's guts. The next time he pays the Professor an unexpected visit, he'd better hope that I'm not around to gouge his _other_ fucking eye out.

I could still recall with horrible clarity how Chase's eyes had glazed over as he'd told his tale, and his voice, once so bright and full of life, had become hushed and heavy with sorrow the likes of which I did not dare imagine. And even though I would not admit it to anyone but myself, Chase's predicament had made me wonder how I would react if the tables had been turned. How would I have been affected if something had happened to Logan instead of Sabertooth? What would have been my reaction if Wolverine, from whose DNA I had been created, had met an untimely end, no matter how unlikely that scenario may seem?

I had been stunned and was _still _somewhat unnerved to realize in a moment of utter clarity that if Logan had indeed perished, I would have been just as stunned and devastated as Chase appeared to be, and possibly more. The thought of Logan going to his grave, the very thing I had once so badly desired, was so horrific that even _imagining _that scenario made my stomach roil with nausea and my fingers tremble with trepidation.

I took a deep breath and stared at my claws meaningfully, in case anyone else on the team doubted my intentions. No matter how repulsive a person he may have been, I would aid in Sabertooth's rescue for Chase's sake.

And when I was done, I would make sure to take my time with Magneto. I would cut him apart like a link of sausage, piece by piece, starting with his eyes, ears and tongue. By the time I was done with him, the last thought that went through Magneto's head before I tore it off with my bare hands would be the fervent wish that he'd never been born.

_Now…_

_An Uncharted Island, the Mid-Pacific Rim_

I would later learn that while I was stewing in my anger somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, Magneto was in the process of both torturing Chase's father. And let me tell you, he seemed more like a villain from a James Bond movie than an infamous terrorist. Seriously, the guy was acting so clichéd that he resembled a villain from those cartoons that Sunspot and the other teenage males make a ritual of watching on Saturday mornings.

Sabertooth, bound by his hands, feet and neck to an upright steel slab, let out a stentorian roar as he fought to free himself.

"Don't bother," Magneto said, waving a hand dismissively. "Those manacles are made of pure adamantium, Victor. Not even Wolverine could break free of them."

Sabertooth stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth so as to lick the droplet of blood that rolled down the side of his face. "When I get outta here-" he started to say-

-"But you _won't_," Magneto cut him off. "In fact, you will not be leaving this facility for quite some time. This is, after all, the headquarters of the Brotherhood; your home is with us now."

A flash of uncertainty glimmered in Sabertooth's eyes, and Magneto didn't miss it. "You want to say something, don't you?" he asked, a deceptively calm smile on his face. "Well, don't keep quiet on _my _account, Victor. Go ahead and get it off your chest."

"My home," Sabertooth had to force the words out, "is with my _son._"

Magneto stared at him for a moment. "Your _son?"_ he asked, his tone mocking once he'd found his voice. "Oh, _please, _Victor. You've fallen for your own deception; do you expect me to believe you care for the boy when you can't even convince _yourself_? You don't give a _damn_ about anyone, Sabertooth; that's what makes you so useful. But as long as we're on that topic…." Magneto leaned in close. "Why not tell me who the child's mother is? Or are you still so disdainful of humans that you didn't even bother remembering her name?"

"It was a one-time thing," Sabertooth's eyes were shadowed. "Just before I was captured by SHIELD. You'd sent me on a mission to the Midwest, remember?"

"Ah, yes," Magneto stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I recall it well. You were…_most thorough_ in carrying out my orders."

"Not as thorough as ya'd think," Sabertooth snapped. "I met a woman who worked in close proximity with the target."

"And you seduced her to gain inside information?" Magneto whistled in admiration. "I must admit, that's _low _even for _you,_ Sabertooth. But I seem to remember you saying that you did away with the woman once you'd gotten what you needed."

"I lied," Creed said flatly. "I let 'er go, an' not only that, I gave 'er whatever money I had in my pocket an' told 'er to git as far away from me as possible."

Magneto's face contorted with fury, but he did an admirable job in keeping his voice level. "You actually _cared_ for her, didn't you?" he said slowly. "I hadn't thought you were capable of such a thing. _I am __most __displeased with you, Victor."_

The mutant terrorist stretched out his arm and wrapped his fingers around a lever that I think had been oversized for theatrical rather than practical reasons. With one swift motion, Magneto pulled the switch, whereupon Sabertooth's entire body was engulfed in over a thousand volts of white-hot electricity.

"And this," Magneto growled, his eyes glittering, "is only the beginning of the price you will pay for your deception."

The sudden, grinding, jeering whir of twin turbine engine's interrupted Magneto's half-assed Dr. Evil impression. I can guess with some degree of certainty that the startled look of surprise on his face must have seemed almost _too_ delicious to the battered Sabertooth.

Magneto's calm mask of arrogant indifference rippled with fury, and he clenched his teeth as his voice became a serpentine hiss. His tone was laced with so much venom and loathing that it must have been almost painful to hear, and his fists clenched so tightly that the bones in his hands grated loudly together.

"_Charles..." _He breathed, with the air of one who'd been thoroughly and _very_ unpleasantly surprised.

Even Sabertooth blinked in disbelief. "As if," he snorted. "Xavier an' his little group of Boy Scouts wouldn't lift a finger to help me."

"If you choose not to believe what is already painfully obvious to those with half a brain cell, then you are more of an idiot than I initially estimated," Magneto responded coldly, tapping his finger against his temple to activate the communications system in his helmet.

"Pyro, gather the others. I have a feeling we'll be receiving some unwanted company very shortly."

_Meanwhile…_

No sooner had the X-Jet gotten to within visual range of Magneto's fortress than the air suddenly became thick with flak. The Blackbird shook so hard that I almost thought it would come apart as the sky became thick with small explosions and gray-black smoke. I suppose, looking back, that the aircraft must have tripped some sort of perimeter alarm that activated the compound's automated defense mechanisms.

I clung to the arm of my seat as Cyclops gripped the throttle and swerved into a barrel roll to avoid the hailstorm of small artillery shells and tracer bullets. Bobby and some of the younger X-Men cried out in surprise as the plane rolled end-over-end-

-It was just our luck that a small heat-seeking missile, trailing a thin gray line of exhaust, slammed into the X-Jet's tailfin like a battering ram and nearly tore the entire plane in half. The petroleum in the rear fuel tank ignited with a thunderous blast and a bone-rattling shockwave that set the entire aft section ablaze with sheets of fire and tore the rear part of the cabin open with a depressurizing, pneumatic _hiss._ The air outside was a keening, screeching and high-pitched wind that made my ears _hurt, _and the mangled, twisted husk of the Blackbird went into a spiraling nosedive. Alarms shrieked in my ears, and Scott, fighting to stand upright, had to strain to make himself heard over the enormous din.

"_Brace for impact!"_

No one had any time to do so. Logan had barely opened his mouth when the wreckage of the Blackbird careened and spun like a wounded beast into the side of Magneto's compound. The airplane's nose was almost completely flattened as it collided with two tons of steel-reinforced concrete amidst a grating, shrieking metallic _screech_. Even so, the plane's sheer velocity caused it to smash a gaping hole in the outside wall and completely demolish the adjoining room and everything inside it; the aircraft's metal hull sent up both a shower of roiling sparks and a grinding sound of deafening proportions as it skidded along the metal floor at an impossible speed. I gritted my teeth and leaned forward, crossing my arms over my chest to minimize any injuries that I might sustain, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Logan grip the handle of the Professor's wheelchair as the force of the crash-landing threw everyone forward in their seats. I saw Beast's forehead crash against the cockpit's ruined control panel with such force that it split the skin above his eyes, and his blood dripped onto the array of levers and buttons as the ravaged vehicle finally came to an agonizingly slow stop amidst a shower of twisted metal and flaming debris.

Logan, ever the soldier, was up and on his feet almost immediately, his voice even harsher than usual with the urgency that had overtaken him. He leapt out of the jagged rip in the cockpit's side like a bat out of hell, and the sheets of roaring, furious flames that surrounded him gave my progenitor an almost demonic appearance as he motioned for us to follow his lead.

"Let's move!" he roared, unsheathing his claws with a furious snarl. "You kin rest when yer dead! Nightcrawler, Jean and Laura with me! The rest o' ya fan out and form a defensive perimeter 'round the X-Jet! I've got a feeling the welcome wagon ain't very far away! _Go, go, go!"_

I took up a position at Logan's shoulder while Kurt flashed a nervous smile at me. He opened his mouth and tried to say something, but failed utterly. All that issued from between his fangs was a harsh, frog-like croak.

"Scared?" I asked him, my tone neither condescending nor sarcarstic.

Nightcrawler hesitated for a moment and nodded. Even if he'd tried to deny it, he couldn't fool me; I could _smell_ the heavy stench of fear rolling off of him.

"That's good," I nodded seriously. "Because overconfidence will kill you faster than a bullet any day."

_FOOOSH!_

I twisted to one side just in time, narrowly avoiding the stream of searing fire that had suddenly been thrown at me. Nightcralwer wasn't so lucky; a full third of his long, spaded tail was blackened and charred in a matter of seconds. He nearly collapsed in agony, but I threw his arm over my shoulder to prevent him from keeling over and passing out from the pain. Tears of agony poured down Kurt's blue, furry cheeks, and raged swelled within me as a loud, raucous laugh made my hackles rise.

"Wouldja lookit that, mates?" the Acolyte known as Pyro jeered with a sadistic grin, flanked by his cohorts Blob, Avalanche, Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver. "I bloody missed!"

"Not entirely," Blob chortled, his many chins wobbling as he spoke. "Check out the Muppet reject's tail."

"This coming from a guy who can't weigh himself without breaking the scale," I retorted. "What are _you_ supposed to be, a Fat Albert stand-in?"

The obese mutant gave a cry of outrage that achieved considerable volume, and the floor shook with the weight of his footsteps as Jabba Junior thundered toward me like a rampaging elephant. The rest of the Brotherhood followed his lead, and the battle was joined in earnest.

I waited until Blob was almost on top of me before I ducked out of his path and let his momentum carry him by. My claws laid open a quartet of long, shallow cuts on Blob's back with a series of quick, scything swipes that made the air hiss. There was an audible _spattering _sound as the floor underfoot was flecked with spots of crimson.

Blob howled in surprise and pain, snorting like an enraged bull and automatically clapping both hands to the mass of bloody, eviscerated flesh. He turned on his heel, which I would not have thought possible for someone of his size, and with speed that again belied his bulk he laced his sausage-like fingers together and swung at me with a wild double-fisted haymaker. The blow connected with my chin so hard that I felt several of my teeth came loose, and I can compare its impact to being about as unpleasant as being hit by a runaway train. The world spun end-over-end as I sailed through the air, and if my bones had not been coated in adamantium, they probably would have shattered like toothpicks as I hit the far wall with an enormous, sickening _smack._ I left a depression in the rough shape of my body as the breath was driven from me like a deflated balloon, and my head was ringing furiously as shockwaves of pain made my face go white with agony.

My vision went gray for a moment as the collision disoriented me, but even momentarily blinded I was already back on my feet as I wiped a ribbon of blood from the corner of my mouth and spat out a bloody, dislodged molar. The hole where the tooth had resided closed itself even more quickly than it had been torn open, and I probed the space with my tongue as the coppery taste of blood faded.

"Well," I growled, rolling my head from side to side to work out the kinks in my neck, "That was cute."

My keen ears alerted me to Blob's follow-up strike long before I saw it. The sound of rushing air was all the signal I needed to throw myself to one side, and the spot where I'd stood less than a second earlier was pulverized to dust underneath Blob's meaty fists as he brought them down in unison so as to squash me like a cockroach. I let out a defiant shout and sprang back onto my feet just before leaping several feet into the air, and I spun my body as though it were the bit of a high-powered drill as I lashed out with a sweeping, semicircular kick that connected with a massive _crunch_ to the side of Blob's head. My foot caved his face in so deeply that he probably _tasted_ the dirt on my shoe, and I felt a rush of fierce satisfaction as Blob's nose gave a sickening _crack_, shattering into a thousand pieces as a small tidal wave of crimson ichor rolled down his chin. Practically blinded and with maddened with pain, Blob staggered upright and took a last-ditch, backhanded swipe at me, but I merely took a calm step backward and buried my claws in his flabby skin all the way up to my knuckles. As a result, I ended slashing Fatboy's entire arm open from the wrist all the way up to the elbow, and my face became stained with crimson as gore began spurting in jets from the grisly wounds. With such an appearance, I suppose I must have looked completely deranged, but I didn't spare my defeated enemy a backward glance as Blob collapsed in a growing pool of his own blood.

I scornfully trod upon his left hand as I made to face my next challenger, and he let out a scream as the fragile bones in his fingers snapped like kindling sticks beneath my heel. I heard them cracking and snapping in a macabre imitation of microwave popcorn, and as Blob writhed and bucked in anguish, I made a show of licking blood off of one of my dripping blade-tips. My eyes reflected the glittering flames that still covered the mangled X-Jet, and my lips parted in a feral smile that brought to mind the carnivorous grin of a ravenous jungle beast.

Logan might have called it psychological warfare. I just called it looking like a bad-ass.

Meanwhile, Beast and Avalanche were going at it tooth-and-nail, and when Toad tried to intervene by wrapping his extendable tongue around Hank's neck, Beast merely grabbed the long, green appendage in his hand and _pulled._ Toad was yanked off right off of his feet as though he were weightless, and he let out a cry of dismay that was abruptly cut short as Beast's fist came rushing up to meet him.

Pyro, seeing his companion so grievously wounded, scowled in rage and unleashed a burst of fire in the shape of a dragon's head. I didn't even bother dodging the stream of napalm that gushed out of the tank on his back; I could heal much faster than Pryo could burn me, and it was true; the charred skin on my face and hands began to regenerate only seconds after being blackened to a crisp. I lunged forward in a burst of speed and grabbed Pryo in a choking headlock, and while he struggled to breathe I turned his flamethrower on the unsuspecting Quicksilver, who had his back to me while he ran rings around an increasingly frustrated Cyclops. The jellied liquid that Pyro kept in his backpack-contraption ignited with an enormous _fwoosh_, and Quicksilver arched his back and gave a shrill, agonized _shriek _before he was completely engulfed in the firestorm. Flailing his arms wildly and screeching at the top of his lungs, he ran aimlessly around in frantic circles for a moment and finally collapsed, twitching spasmodically as a vile, yellow liquid began to extrude from the mass of third-degree burns that rendered him practically unrecognizable.

Iceman stared at me, apparently horrified by what I'd just done, but his eyes widened in pained surprise as a bolt of red energy from Scarlet Witch threw him off his feet. Bobby staggered upright and retaliated with a volley of what looked to be throwing stars made of ice, and though Scarlet Witch swerved in mid-air to avoid them, Cyclops caught her dead-center in the chest with a high powered blast from his visor. Scarlet Witch was thrown backward but regained her footing quickly, and she and Scott began to throw energy beams at each other, I caught Bobby's eye and gave him a knowing nod.

Bobby, sensing that I had something in mind, pressed his advantage in an effort to keep Witch-Bitch distracted; his entire left arm became a sword of transparent crystal, and Scarlet Witch, who had been preoccupied with Cyclops, gave a cat-like hiss as its glittering edge opened a shallow cut along her lower abdomen. Cyclops, realizing that she was open to another attack, let loose another ray of crimson energy that knocked Scarlet Witch off her feet and sent her careening towards me.

I coldly ignored Pyro's screams of protest as I lifted him over my head and threw him into the air like I'd seen professional wrestlers do on the television device, and the coconut-like sound of their skulls cracking against each other was immensely satisfying. Pyro and Scarlet Witch plummeted to Earth in a tangled heap of arms and legs, and they landed like a pair of marionettes whose strings had been cut. I didn't need to examine the two to know that they were both out _cold_. I wondered briefly if I had given them both concussions and decided even more quickly that I really didn't care.

I avoided the ravaged, unconscious body of Quicksilver as I sought out my next opponent, and tongues of flame were still licking at his arms and legs when I felt someone grab me by the wrist. I only just refrained from slicing Jean Grey's head in half as her voice turned urgent, but strangely that didn't seem to bother her at all. "No time for that, Laura. We have a job to do, remember?" she asked, nodding at the battle that raged around us. "There's no time to waste."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled sullenly. I hated backing out of a fight, especially after my blood was up. Now Bobby and the others would get to have _all _the fun while I was stuck on rescue duty. I bitterly cursed my luck and asked,"Where's Magneto keeping Sabertooth, anyway?"'

The Professor wheeled over to the unconscious Blob and, leaning down, pressed a finger to his temple.

"That way," Xavier said calmly, pointing down a narrow corridor.

Logan defused the situation when he grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt and shoved me roughly forward. "What're ya just standin' around here for?" he snarled, his tone harsh with urgency. "Git movin'! You too, Elf!"

Nightcrawler, still visibly in pain from his seared tail, gritted his teeth. "But vat about ze others?" he asked, pointing to Bobby and the others, who hadn't disengaged the enemy yet.

Logan slapped him upside the head. "Ya ain't bin lissenin', nitwit!" he growled. "Their job is t'keep th'Brotherhood distracted so _we _kin git him outta here!"

I had a hunch that everyone knew who Logan was referring to as 'him.' I guess he couldn't bring himself to actually come out and admit that we were trying to save his arch-enemy, and I didn't really expect him to, either.

"And how are we going to get out of here once we've done _that?"_ I demanded, ducking a stray beam of energy from Cyclops' visor and pointing to the mangled corpse of the Blackbird.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Logan grunted, breaking into a jog and disappearing around the corner. "Now gitcher ass in gear and move! _NOW!"_

A small explosion sent an incandescent fireball spiraling towards the ceiling, and Jean and I supported the limping Nightcrawler between us as we hurried to catch up with him. I put my other hand on the handle of the Professor's chair and wheeled him along at an impressive speed, but despite the adrenaline rush that all the fighting had given everyone else, his face never radiated anything but calm serenity.

I chanced a final look over my shoulder.

Behind us, the fighting continued unabated…

_Meanwhile…_

Magneto's balance was thrown off slightly as another series of small detonations rocked the inside of his secret base, and the entire complex gave a massive shudder as it threatened to crack like an eggshell. The triumphant smile that he'd sported when the X-Jet had been hit had been wiped off his face for good; I'm sure that he had already realized that the battle was lost for him and his followers. Magneto, viewing the carnage through several video monitors that had escaped incineration during the crash, had already borne witness to the fates of Blob and Quicksilver, and with both Pyro and Scarlet Witch out of commission, only Avalanche and Toad remained to keep the X-Men at bay.

Even if he'd already come to terms with his latest defeat at Xavier's hands, Magneto didn't show it. His face might as well have been hewn from granite as he took a small remote-control device out of his pocket and activated it with a loud _beep._

Sabertooth gnashed his teeth as he renewed his efforts to free himself, and Magneto spared him a parting glance. "Unfortunately, Victor, it seems that this base, like you, can no longer adequately serve my purpose. If you are not my ally, then you are my enemy, and I do not make a habit of letting my enemies escape from my custody. You of all people should know that."

"So yer just gonna leave me here?" Sabertooth hissed, struggling until his whole body shook with effort.

"Correct," Magneto nodded, his voice detached and uncaring. "It's clear now that you've gone soft."

"_The hell I have!"_ Sabertooth roared. "_Untie me an' say that agin!"_

"Pull the other leg, it plays 'Jingle Bells,'" Magneto sneered. "The _old_ Sabertooth would have torn Chase in half without a second thought, and he most _certainly_ would not have consented to doing manual labor for _humans._ I can't believe how _far _you've fallen, allowing them to use you as a pack mule in a facility like _that!_ The Victor Creed _I _knew would have gone happily to _Hell_ before he'd let himself be influenced by a human child!"

"_I'LL KILL YOU!"_ Creed howled, thrashing madly.

"I very much doubt it," Magneto shook his head. "This fortress cannot maintain its structural integrity for very much longer. Very soon, it will collapse from within, and you and the rest of the X-Men will be crushed beneath the rubble."

"I ain't one of _them!"_

"Since you refuse to rejoin the Brotherhood, you might as well be," Magneto shrugged, turning to leave as another ominous rumble echoed through the complex. "I _do _wish that things could have turned out differently, Victor. Farewell."

With a wave of his arm, he pulled peeled back the metal roof over his head as though it were made of aluminum foil, and Magneto's feet left the ground as he went to make his escape-

-"You and I need to have a _serious_ talk, Erik."

Magneto froze in mid-air, and I almost thought he'd stopped breathing as Logan ripped the door clear off its hinges and sent it crashing to one side. I gripped the handle of his wheelchair tightly, and there was a muted _bamfing _sound as Nightcrawler vanished into thin air.

I didn't turn my head to observe his departure. I already knew where he'd gone; it was all part of the plan.

But unfortunately for Magneto, I had no intention of sticking to it.

"You would risk your life and that of your X-Men to save _him_?" Magneto asked, jerking a thumb at Sabertooth as he slowly turned to face us. His gaze zeroed in on me, and I was astonished at how _ancient_ his eyes seemed compared to the rest of him. True, he was no longer young, but his eyes…

Those were eyes that had seen horrors beyond comprehension and witnessed atrocities the likes of which could not even be imagined. I knew those eyes only too well; I saw them every time I looked in the mirror.

Xavier steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, Erik."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew half the things that Sabertooth has done," Magneto stated flatly. "Look at him, chained and bound like the beast he is; can you honestly say that he _deserves_ any better than this? And you, Logan," he added, flicking his eyes at him, "I would think that _you _of all people would be _more_ than happy to leave your nemesis to his fate. This is what you've wanted for all those years, is it not? To watch your sworn enemy die before your very eyes? I have _given_ you that, and now you seek to _save _him? Charles' hopeless idealism is infectious, it seems."

"I ain't doin' this fer Creed," Wolverine said, and his words were so firm that they sounded like a hammer striking an anvil.

"For the sake of his son, then?" Magneto arched an eyebrow. "You and I both know that young Chase would be _far_ better off without him."

"I think he'd disagree with you," I retorted, trying not to direct my gaze upward as Nightcrawler appeared above Magneto's head in a puff of smoke. His blue, furry face hung upside down as he Kurt dangled behind Magneto by his wounded tail, and I'm sure that must have been quite painful for him as he slowly reached his hand out toward the helmet that Magneto always wore.

I subtly shifted my position, my entire body tensing like a twisted rubber band. I had to be ready to move _fast_ if Kurt wasn't able to get that damned helmet off Magneto's head so Xavier could incapacitate him. The trick was to keep the bastard talking so that he wouldn't notice what Kurt was doing, and the Professor was the only person at the Institute that Magneto would actually talk to. The rest of us he seemed to regard as ignorant or misguided, and that superior attitude of his made me _itch _with a longing to hit him so hard that he'd end up swallowing his own teeth.

Kurt bit his lip, took a shallow breath through his nostrils, and clapped both hands to Magneto's temple with anticlimactic silence. Magneto's eyes widened with panic, and his cape billowed behind him as he spun on his heel-

-But it was too late. Kurt gave a grunt of effort as he threw the helmet clear across the room, and it made a metallic clanking sound as it bounced along the floor.

Magneto's face contorted with fury as he grabbed Kurt by the throat and began throttling him. "You, my young friend, just made a _very big mistake. _You will suff_huurrrrk!"_

The terrorist's monologue became a wet, muted gurgle as blood spilled out from between his lips, and ignoring the Professor's cry of dismay, I grabbed Magneto around his midsection and whispered vengefully in his ear as I plunged my adamantium blades deeper and deeper into his back. Revenge, indeed, is a dish that's best served cold.

"_For Chase,_" I murmured softly.

Magneto's gaze grew dull as he slumped against me, blood coursing down the back of his suit, and I let him crumple to my feet as a sudden and terrible silence filled the room.

Jean recovered first. "What have you done?" she yelled. "You _killed _him!"

"_Please,_" I rolled my eyes. "If I'd meant to kill him, he'd already be dead. I just stabbed him hard enough to make sure he'll spend the next couple of years as a freaking _vegetable_. Maybe he and Quicksilver can be roommates."

The Professor pointed at Magneto's prone form, and I knew at once that what I'd done to Quicksilver back at the crash site hadn't escaped his notice. "Once Erik and Pietro have been hospitalized, you and I will speak in private on the virtues of self-restraint," he said. "I hope, for your sake, that they both survive their injuries."

Translation: _You went too far._

I nodded calmly, trying not to appear as defiant as I felt. "They will," I said offhandedly. "Quicksilver will probably need skin grafts and Magneto will have to be fed through a straw, but assuming there are no complications I postulate eventual recovery for both of them."

Translation: _Bite me._

Logan strode over to the metal table that Sabertooth had been bound to, and since he couldn't slice Creed's manacles open, he shredded a nearby console instead in the hope that the ensuing short-circuit would do the trick. To my surprise, it worked; I had thought that that kind of thing only worked in the place that Kitty called "Hollywood."

Sabertooth bolted upright with a bestial snarl, and there was a moment of incredible tension as he and Logan looked each other in the eye.

Creed broke the silence first. "This changes nothing," he snapped.

"Damn right it doesn't," Logan retorted. "When you die, it'll be by _my _hand, an' mine alone."

"We'll see about _that,_" Sabertooth rumbled. "An' you'd better watch that whelp of yours, 'cuz if my boy comes home with any horror stories, she'll be the first to go."

"I'd worry about your _own _brat if I were you," Logan sneered. "I kin hardly _believe _that that kid's the fruit of _your _loins. Didja drop 'im on 'is head when he was a baby or somethin'?"

Sabertooth bristled, but directed his question at the Professor. "You got a ride out of here?"

"I was hoping _you_ would know of one, actually," Xavier shifted uncomfortably in his wheelchair. "I'm afraid the X-Jet has been destroyed."

"I know th'way Magneto works," Creed muttered. "It's likely he'll have an escape craft moored somewhere on the lower levels."

"Then we'd better hurry," I interjected, pointing to the telltale cracks in the ceiling. "This place is about to come down like a house of cards."

"Very well," Xavier nodded, turning to Jean and Nightcrawler. "Get Erik, Quicksilver and Blob to safety, and have the rest of the X-Men pull back and rendezvous with us in the docking bay."

"Right away, Professor," Jean nodded, linking hands with Nightcrawler and disappearing in a puff of sulphuric smoke.

Sabertooth gestured for us to follow him. "I still hate you," he muttered to Logan out of the corner of his mouth. "Don't _ever _think that's changed, Logan."

"Oh, go screw yourself, Goldilocks," Wolverine shot back sourly. "And shut yer trap, or I'll put ya back where I found ya."

"You'll _try,_" Creed promised him threateningly.

I clenched my teeth to prevent myself from laughing. If Bobby had been stupid enough to bring his cell phone along (and knowing _him_, he probably did), I wouldn't put it past him to videotape Sabertooth and Logan's vicious repartee and post it on his Youtube page.

I bet it would get over a million hits.

A/N: WHEW! This installment was a real DOOZY, if I do say so myself! XD But I thank you all for your patience, and I sincerely hope that the end result was worth the wait and lived up to your expectations…*Is nervous* And since we all know how hard fight scenes are to do, if YOU have any ideas on how I can do even better in the future and make my stories more enjoyable for YOU to read, LET ME KNOW!

Coming up: the epilogue!

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


	25. Chapter 25

Laura's Journal

An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque

I do not own X-Men.

_(A/N: Just so you guys know, the song, "Into the West" by Annie Lennox goes GREAT with the ending of this chapter. You can find it on Youtube, by a user named "dogsrule344." Seriously, you should open a new tab and bring it up before you read any further. It sets the mood perfectly. ^^)_

Chapter 25: A New Beginning

_Prologue_

_Hours ago…_

Sabertooth let out an agonized grunt under his breath, still pained by his injuries as he led us down a long, winding flight of stairs, and Jean had to use her telekinetic abilities to lift the Professor's wheelchair several inches off the ground. Beside me, Logan's face was set in a grim, stony expression, and I flinched involuntarily as the entire compound was rocked by a seismic wave that made the ceiling above us buckle sharply inward with an enormous _groan_. My progenitor and I bore Magneto's bloody, unconscious form between us, and Sabertooth cradled my defeated enemy's helmet under one arm. I had a sneaking suspicion that he had claimed the gore-spattered headgear as a grisly trophy.

"Down to the lower levels, quick!" Creed roared, pointing down a narrow passageway. "Or this entire place'll come down right on top of us!"

I leapt forward to avoid being crushed by a small avalanche of jagged rubble, and my nostrils began to sting as the air became thick with crushed mortar and concrete. "Where are the others? They should have met up with us by now!"

An ominous rumble threw everyone off balance, but I was surprised that Xavier's expression hadn't changed at all. "I have already contacted them," he said mildly. "They should be here any moment now."

"We ain't _got _a moment!" Logan shouted angrily.

As if on cue, the wall behind us suddenly gave a collective, grating shudder, and a network of large cracks spread along its surface as someone on the other end began pounding thunderously upon it. Once, twice, and then three times the reinforced concrete cracked and heaved-

A massive, blue, furry fist emerged out from the other side, and Beast let out a howl of astounding volume as he broke the wall down like a medieval battering ram. His eyes stung from mortar dust and bits of stone clung to his fur, and his breath was coming in heaving pants almost like those of a dog. Beast's big, furry chest was slick with perspiration from his superhuman effort, but even so he flashed a grin at us as the rest of the X-Men gathered at his side. The inert form of Blob had been slung over Beast's left shoulder, and Sunspot, Iceman, Cyclops and Kitty bore the rest of the wounded Brotherhood members between them.

"I hope you've found a way out of this place!" Beast had to yell to make himself heard over the noise. "Because the X-Jet is going nowhere fast!"

"What took ya so long?" Sabertooth hissed, his tone harsh with urgency as he beckoned us to follow his lead once more."We ain't got time t'idle here, idjits! This way! Hurry!"

Beast shot a questioning glance at me, but no one moved; apparently they were unwilling to let Sabertooth guide them around the block, let alone out of a collapsing building.

Logan turned in mid-run and bared his teeth. "You heard 'im!" he roared. "Git movin'! _Now!"_

There was an enormous _crash_ as the roof overhead collapsed and buried the spot where we'd stood moments before under tons of rubble, and I unsheathed my claws for emphasis as I made to follow Logan's example. I could already see that the winding passageway led deep into the bowels of Magneto's ruined headquarters. The air was thick, dank, wet and stale as I vanished into the darkness; I suppose that there must have been lights overhead, but the explosion caused by the Blackbird's crashed landing must have knocked them out. I could hear the hasty _pitter-patter_ of pairs of feet behind me, and I did not bother looking over my shoulder to know that Beast and the others had decided to follow Sabertooth's lead and risk _probable_ death rather than stay put and risk _certain_ death.

Wolverine wheeled the Professor's chair at breakneck pace, and even I found myself hard-pressed to keep up with him. The secret corridor trembled and shook before it began to collapse behind us, and I caught Sunspot by the arm as he almost fell on his face.

"Keep moving!" I told him. "Don't stop!"

"An' don't look behind ya, whatever ya do!" Sabertooth added, pointing to a stainless steel door at the end of the hall. "Logan, git up there an' smash it down!"

"Don't tell me how to do _my _job, Creed!" Wolverine snarled, rushing forward with his claws bared. The door in question had probably been tested for endurance and strength, but it sure as hell wasn't Logan-proof. With a series of eye-blurring, savage strikes, my progenitor cut the door to pieces and kicked what was left of it clear off its hinges. Beyond, I could see a large, man-made cavern upon which Magneto's headquarters had been built, and my heart leapt in my throat as I zeroed in on the large helicopter that lay inert and motionless just yards away.

"I _told _ya there was a way outta here," Creed gave a feral, triumphant grin.

"Shove it," Logan snarled back before raising his voice. "Get the wounded Acolytes an' the Professor into the copter first! Git a move on!"

The ceiling's cavern shuddered as several large stalactites came loose and splashed into the large pool below, and as I helped shove Blob's massive form into the helicopter's cargo bay, he and Sabertooth slid into the cockpit and hurriedly flipped the engine on. The entire cave began to disintegrate all around us, filling my ears with an ominous rumble like an active volcano, and I felt my heart start to beat faster as I piled hurriedly into the vehicle.

Logan didn't even wait until I was all the way inside. The large, military-grade attack chopper was already several inches off the ground by the time I had strapped myself into my seat, and we became airborne even as the walls began to crumble around us.

Sabertooth snatched the throttle from Logan and keyed in a series of commands on the helicopter's control panel. Logan hissed in anger, but I will give Sabertooth credit where it's due; he guided our escape craft with considerable accuracy toward a large, gaping hole that had been torn in the cavern's side.

"_Hold on!"_ Cyclops shouted, gripping his seat as he saw what Sabertooth was about to do.

With a nod and a predatory smile on his face, Victor Creed gunned the engine, and the sudden burst of speed forced me back in seat as the G-forces rippled my cheeks.

We only _just _made it out in time.

An enormous explosion, the largest one yet, shook the island to its foundations and rocketed pieces of flaming rubble hundreds of feet into the air. The enormous, mushroom-shaped, roiling fireball was so hot that I could feel even from where I sat; the deafening, concussive shockwave that came moments later nearly flipped the chopper end-over-end. The remains of the fortress were practically vaporized in the ensuing blast, and the small landmass on which it had stood was nearly torn in half before it vanished beneath the waves. Countless pieces of wreckage were heaved skyward, pieces of twisted metal and concrete as big as a truck lifted as though they weighed nothing at all. A great pillar of pitch-black smoke rose high into the atmosphere as an entire landmass was consumed with fire, and as it sank beneath the waves, I recalled the story of Atlantis and wondered briefly if the cataclysm that had claimed the legendary kingdom had looked at all like what I was seeing now.

I let out a sigh of relief, and I was not the only one who sagged with sudden weariness as our collective adrenaline rush began to wore off. My breathing came hard and fast, and Sunspot gave me a thumbs-up as he flashed me a nervous grin.

For once, I smiled right back at him. I was too exhausted to be grumpy.

_Now…_

I must have fallen asleep on the ride back to New York, because the first thing I recall after snapping suddenly awake was the rough _bump_ that the chopper made when it landed clumsily on the Xavier Institute's front lawn. I snapped up in my seat as Logan switched the motor off; I can only imagine how eager he was to be out of that helicopter after having to spend several hours in his arch-enemy's company. I was surprised that neither of them had tried to tear each other's throat out by this point; from what I understood it was impossible to put Sabertooth and Wolverine in a room together without starting a fight.

Sabertooth hit the grass and crouched like a tiger on the trail of his prey, and I noticed his nose twitching almost like that of a rabbit as his sensitive nostrils filtered the air for the scent he was looking for.

Victor Creed stood upright and turned his head to stare down at the Professor. I tensed in my seat, half-convinced that Sabertooth would attack, but what he said next put to rest any question of _that _happening.

Even now, as I write it down, I can still scarcely believe what came out of Sabertooth's mouth, even though I was _there_ when he said it.

Creed's voice was unusually quiet and almost devoid of the venom or bitterness that seemed to coat his words. There was no bestial growl in the back of his throat, no sneer of derision or piercing, hate-filled glare; it seemed disturbingly unnatural, especially for someone like him.

I caught a flash of…_something_ in his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak, but what that something was I still do not know. It certainly wasn't anything like the bitterness or malice that I'd seen in those eyes before, that's for sure. In fact, if those eyes had belonged to any other person, I could have sworn that for a split second Creed looked…_worried._

"Where is Chase?" Sabertooth asked finally. "Where is my son?"

"He's inside," Xavier answered, his voice quiet. "Shall I take you to him?"

Creed seemed uncertain for a moment before nodding firmly. "Yeah," he muttered, looking away awkwardly. "I'd like that."

"I've got my eye on you," Logan muttered to Sabertooth through his teeth. "Try t'pocket anythin', an' I'll kick ya clear through the door."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sabertooth brushed him off. "Truth be told, Baldy's trinkets ain't worth th'trouble it'd take t'steal 'em, Logan."

"You ain't ever bin in th'habit of tellin' the _truth_," Wolverine sneered back. "Why start now?"

"Cuz lyin' ain't brought me nothin' but trouble," Sabertooth rolled his eyes. "I figgered maybe I'd try goin' straight an' see how well _that _works out."

"So people keep tellin' me," Logan replied. "But I still ain't buyin' it, bub."

"I think yer mistakin' me for someone who _cares_," Creed muttered. "I don't give a damn about what you or anyone else thinks o' me."

"Not even _Chase_?" Wolverine smiled smugly as Cyclops opened the door and swung it open. "Seems to me you care an _awful _lot about what _he _thinks."

Creed shot him a withering glare. "Is that right? Well, from where _I'm _standin', I think h'same could be said fer _you_ an' yer girl."

Logan bristled. "Don't start with me, Sabertooth…"

"Shut up, Logan."

"_You _shut up, Sabertooth!"

"How about _both _of you shut the hell up," I interjected with a snarl, elbowing my way past them. "You're acting like an old married couple or something!"

Creed gave Logan a vaguely amused look. "Yup. She's _your_ kid, all right. Though I wonder how in the world you ever got la-_Ooomph!"_

Sabertooth's dirty witticism was interrupted as Chase Lancaster, jubilant at seeing his father, blindsided Creed and grabbed him in a bone-crushing bear hug.

"Aww, ain' that _sweet,_" Logan smirked as Sabertooth's face registered both surprise and enormous embarrassment. "Wish I had me a camera."

"I dare you t'try," Sabertooth spat back, trying to regain some semblance of dignity as his son pulled away from him.

"I'm glad you're okay," Chase murmured, trying to lower his voice for his father's sake. I suppose he'd already realized that he'd forced Sabertooth into an awkward position. "I…I thought…"

"Better men than Magneto 'ave tried t'put me six feet under, boy," Creed snorted, giving Wolverine a knowing glance. "An' all of them have failed."

"Keep talkin', an' we'll test that theory," Logan warned him.

"Shove it," I growled, punching him in the arm. I didn't hit him very hard, though, just hard enough to let him know that he was ruining the moment.

Chase turned to face Xavier and the others, but his eyes lingered on me. "Thank you," he said simply, "for saving him."

"I would not allow myself to do anything less," the Professor replied genially before he gave Sabertooth a stern look of warning. "This is the _second _time you have been given an opportunity to start over, Victor. Don't waste it."

"He won't," Chase spoke up quickly, moving away from me to be at his father's side. "I'll make sure of that."

I frowned in dismay, and I lashed out suddenly to grab Chase by his shirt sleeve.

"Where are you going? C'mere."

I secretly delighted in the astonished expression on his face as I yanked him in close to me, pulling him in for a good, firm kiss. He stiffened in surprise as I pressed my lips against his, but then he relaxed and wrapped his arms around me as he returned my affection with his own. Kissing Chase was so _addictive _that I thought I would never pull away from him. I could feel the blush on his face rising alongside mine, I relished the feeling of his hands as he pulled a stray lock of hair away from my eyes.

The kiss lasted only a moment, but it seemed like an eternity. So much was said between the two of us, and yet both Chase and I had not needed to utter a single word.

I reluctantly broke away when I realized I needed to breathe, and Chase clasped me around the waist as I smiled shyly back at him. The long silence dragged on for moments as we both relished the feeling of being in each other's company, but it was Chase who finally whispered in my ear.

"You free Wednesday?" he asked teasingly. "We never got to finish our date, after all."

"True," I grinned and narrowed my eyes, pretending to think it over. "I suppose I'm up for giving it another shot."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Logan watching with a vaguely horrified expression on his face. He almost looked as though he was going to be sick to his stomach, now that I think about it, and I would have slugged him for ruining the atmosphere if Chase hadn't gotten me into such a good mood.

"I need a beer," Logan muttered, striding off down the hall.

Sabertooth followed him hurriedly. "Fer once, Logan, I completely agree with you."

I moved to stop their hasty exit, but Chase caught my hand and held it firm. "Let them go," he said quietly.

I faltered in mid-step. "I'll be back in a second," I assured him, "And I'm not going to start a fight or anything like that. It's just…well…"

I took a deep breath. "There's one more thing I have to do, Chase."

He let me go, his eyes trusting. "Fair enough."

I flashed him a smile and followed Logan and Sabertooth's trail. It wouldn't have been hard even if I hadn't memorized the layout of the Institute; their combined scent was so strong that it was almost like a homing beacon.

I turned into the kitchen and found the two of them preparing to consume an entire case of Budweiser, and I shuffled awkwardly for a moment as I cleared my throat to make myself noticed.

Logan looked up, and I gave him a grin. "Drinking contest?"

"Damn right," he snorted. "No bathroom breaks an' no regurgitation. Last one still standin' upright wins."

"Well, before you get involved with that, can I, uh, talk to you for a second?" I asked, inwardly cringing at how uncertain and uncomfortable I sounded.

Logan scooted his chair back. "Fine, but try t'make it quick," he said, following me out into the living room. "Whatcha need, Small Fry?"

I matched my gaze with his. "Nothing."

"What?" Logan scratched the razor stubble on his chin in confusion.

"I need nothing," I reiterated. "You've already given me everything I needed: a home to live in, friends that I can spend my time with, a good cause to fight for…I need nothing else."

"Then why'd ya interrupt me?" Logan asked.

"Because I wanted to thank you," I told him, my heart speeding up as my palms became slick with sweat. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't found me up in Canada, and I want you to know that I appreciate it…_Father._"

I swear to God that Logan's lower lip actually _trembled _for a moment as he went straight as a ramrod, but he swiftly cut off any such emotional displays as he put both hands on my shoulders. I didn't think Logan would hug me and I thought no less of him for it; that kind of thing probably came even harder to Logan than it did for me, so I was perfectly content with his firm, silent gesture of paternal support and affection.

"Just doin' my job, that's all," Logan said gruffly scrubbing at one eye with a meaty fist even though he was fooling neither of us. His words were halting and filled with self-consciousness, but Logan endured with his usually stubbornness as he added, "But even so, it's good that ya decided to come back with me…_daughter._"

My vision blurred slightly as water began building up in my eyes, but I stuck my hand out to him. "I think it was the best decision I've ever made, Logan."

His meaty hands completely covered mine. "Glad to hear it, Small Fry."

~_The End~_

A/N: And so we have finally come full circle, my friends. It's been a fun ride, and I want to say that it has been my privilege and my honor to write for you; I was nothing less than floored by how many people have enjoyed this story, and words cannot describe how happy I am that you enjoyed my work so much! My dearest readers, I cannot say how humbled I am to have been given the opportunity to write this tale for you, and I hope to see you all for many, many stories to come! A very special thanks goes out to all those who reviewed, and so ALLREMS, Caprichoso, Dracarot, Copycat A, ObsessedwithNightcrawler, Cheyy, Dragoncat, dreamcrasher, All Knowing 1, Tatiana Elyna, ImNoHeroImTheVillain, Kairan1979, roguelover321, shejams, xSherbetMcFiercex, Jessie07, son of wind, Arich, Zakiba, iamnoone, Hasmmer, Ravenangel96, L-Dog Z, cool story brahw, Callie Summers, Chris B, MadHatter0013, wolverine15120, 3, and my old friends Indigo-Night-Wisp and Gabry, I send my thanks and gratitude for all your warm praise and helpful feedback! But I also know that there are many others who also took the time to read this fic, and so I thank you, _all _of you, for taking the time to read it. I take a bow as I present this chapter as a final gift to each and every one of you, nd I hope that you will honor me with your continued readership for many, many stories to come!

I am, and shall ever be,

Your humble servant,

-Quill N. Inque


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